Family Affairs
by Alone in a New Place
Summary: A collection of all around oneshots involving my MuMurrue family [kids included] from my stories It Should’ve Been Me and Never 'I do', Never Die.
1. Stolen Hearts

Okay, I admit it, I still have all these ideas involvingthe family I created (Mu, Murrue, Evi, Matt,--baby--). I can't get rid of these ideas but I can't use them either (seeing as how It Should've Been Me has ended and such) So, here's where I'm putting them! I couldn't think of a core plotline to center them around so it couldn't be a full fledged story. (But that might change. . .)

But until then there'll be many more since I already have many in the works!

* * *

Happy Valentine's Day, everybody! And to celebrate, I give this. (not a good gift, but still) And I know that because of the returning memory of the 'Bloody Valentine Tradgey' this probably couldn't happen so care-freely, but in the name ofbadly written romance I waver that aside. Forgive me.

I was also running through this and realized that it's more like three one-shots in one and I've also realized that I seemto do that a lot. . . .

Out-there for me and a bit Out-Of-Character for sure. (I make Murrue blush way too much as well)

* * *

**I. Stolen Hearts**

Today was that day. The day for lovers everywhere. The day that the two kids should be off at the neighbor's, and the day that they should be spending a romantic time home alone.

_. . . Valentine's . . ._

Murrue glanced about her well-lit kitchen and sighed. She knew exactly what she was missing, elbow deep in dishwater cleaning off old plates that they'd never used.

It was Valentine's Day again and the LaFlaga household was over-ridden with the intoxicating smell of cleaning fluid and cookies.

There was going to be something like a garage sale the next day and both Mu and Murrue had been putting off the picking and cleaning of what they were going to sell—meaning they had to spend Valentine's . . . cleaning.

Murrue sighed again, wiping her hands dry, staring wistfully at the _two_ bouquets of roses Mu bought her to make up for it.

Where Mu was then, Murrue had no clue.

Evi bounded into the room, covered head to toe in red. To celebrate the day she picked out all her clothes herself.

"Need help, Mama?" Evi was happy and energetic—just like always. Murrue turned from her washing to look around for anything her young daughter could manage.

"Here, could you take this and pour it over the railing?" She pointed to a large bucket filled with dirty water. It was what Murrue used to clean off the soap she was soaking her plates in, but now, with the water dirty as it was, it didn't make any sense to keep it.

"Okay, one second," Evi smiled, happy to help. She ran over to where the glass doors of the kitchen opened up to a stone balcony, and Evi fixed the doors so they'd stay open. A slight breeze came in, pushing slightly at Murrue's hair.

It was a beautiful day.

Evi's soft whines from near the floor caught Murrue's attention once again. The bucket filled with water hadn't moved, even with all the force Evi was using.

"Oh, is it too heavy for you?" Murrue asked, soft smile to her face.

"No, it isn't," Evi shot back quickly, trying to shift the bucket once more. "It just wont move. . . ."

"Here." Murrue wrapped her arms around her daughter, picking the small girl up from the floor to rest her sitting on the counter. She gave Evi a rag and a wet plate from the side. "I'll do this and you can help dry plates for me, okay?"

"Okay," Evi mumbled, starting on the plate in her hands. She had wanted to help with the water.

But even to Murrue, the bucket was heavy—she hadn't realized. When Mu had carried it in, it seemed so _light_. But _now_ it was so heavy. If she had known, she wouldn't have asked Evi to do it.

With a bit of a push, Murrue struggled with the water until she finally rested it on the balcony railing outside. With an ease she poured it over, emptying it fully.

Then she heard the scream. It even echoed over the close houses. In confused shock, Murrue leaned over the railing, all the air blushingly leaving her.

Mu was standing there below on the grass drenched head to toe in the cold, dirty water from Murrue's bucket.

"Oh, God, Mu—Sorry!" Mu looked up to her, his usual impeccable hair lying flat against his face, covering up his eyes. With a dripping hand, he moved a bit of hair to see, the uncovered blue eyes swirling with some emotion. Even with her sincere apology, when Mu looked up like that, drenched, to see her blushing, bucket in hand, he just looked so darn funny—Murrue couldn't hold back laughter.

Mu didn't laugh—of what she could see—for soon he was gone from her sight.

By the sound of the slamming front door, Murrue knew Mu was the one trudging up the stairs leaving a trail of water behind him most likely.

He appeared in the kitchen, walking in from the stairs, quiet as ever. The first time Evi saw him, she couldn't keep from giggles, cocking her head in confusion.

"Daddy? Why'd you take a bath with your clothes _on_?"

Mu forced a grin before slowly making his way into their bedroom, leaving a wet trail on the wood floor. He disappeared behind the door.

Evi didn't understand her father's silence.

"Mama? Is Daddy okay?"

Murrue shook her head lightly.

"Evi, go wake up Matt for lunch while I go help your father," Murrue sighed with a smile, moving towards the closed bedroom door.

"Okay," Evi smiled, sliding her way off the counter and running her way down the stairs.

"Be careful," Murrue warned at Evi's toppling speed, but the girl didn't hear her. Murrue screwed up her face slightly then made her way inside their bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Seeing Mu with his for-the-moment-'angry' face as he searched the room for new clothes, completely drenched . . . Murrue could hold back a smile and soft giggle of her own.

Mu looked up and his face softened, seeing her standing there. The comforted laugh in his face was quickly overrun by a sharp grin.

"Some Valentine's gift," he huffed. "You get roses and I get . . . this." Mu picked disgustedly at his grimy shirt.

"I said I was sorry," Murrue sighed, partly whining for his forgiveness as she moved closer.

"Well, sorry doesn't cut it," Mu shot back, turning to face her. The edge in his tone made Murrue stiffen as well.

"What does then?" She challenged. He was quiet for a moment, fingering his chin as if thinking.

". . . This." Before Murrue could react, she was pulled tightly into his embrace, lending her lips to his.

She slowly pulled herself away, he gently letting her go. Cheeks slightly pink, Murrue gazed up, almost shyly, to his face.

". . . Just that?" She quietly wondered.

"Yeah," he shrugged lightly, subtly licking at his lips. He flashed his rogue of a grin. "—For _starters_ anyway."

Murrue lightly gasped when he fixed his hold on her, bringing her even closer. But he still surprised her with another kiss, one filled with a passion and possession she didn't expect.

Common sense flew from the window, the kisses following easily drugging the soul. It was what they'd been wanting but had kept themselves from having—on this Valentine's of a day.

As their long, heated kiss finally ended, Murrue found herself somehow lying back on their bed, staring up at him, locked tight in his arms. It was then Mu realized that he was the one who put her there and was holding her still lying before him.

And neither wanted to move.

Their hearts ran rapid, the heat ever rising between them. Mu's soaking attire and still dripping hair was forgotten, the only thing mattering was they way their eyes met and never let go. The steaming desire in her rich brown, the hungry flash in his crystal blue. . . .

Murrue's fingers idly ran into his thick, wet hair, passing the time by until their gazes would unlock, allowing the kisses to start once more. She didn't have to wait long.

Mu bent forward, down went to kiss her again, taking his time.

_This . . . **This** is what Valentine's should be like. . . ._

"Mama? Daddy? Where'd you go?"

Evi's wondering voice calling from inside the kitchen shattered it all.

Mu nearly collapsed on top Murrue—part in exasperation and part in surprise. For that moment with her, he'd forgotten about the children. It seemed like he wasn't the only one—Murrue had, too.

Evi's voice came again:

"Mama, Mattie woke up but he doesn't wanna _get_ up. You should get him. Mama? . . . Daddy?"

"Be right there," Mu called in response, trying hard to strangle the annoyance from his voice. He glanced back down to Murrue, still lying so invitingly in his arms. Unable to resist, Mu ducked down to plant another kiss on her lips.

Bad choice.

That kiss reignited everything from before, dragging on despite their minds' rational protests. Stolen away were all senses, leaving only need and the hot feel of the other's lips.

Somewhere along the line, at least one sense returned.

"No. . . . Evi . . ." One softly murmured in realization. Their daughter was waiting for them, but neither wanted to go.

Another kiss. Another unwontedly pushed away. Another idea.

". . . Later?"

"Mm." Sounded good.

One more kiss to seal the deal and Mu forcibly pulled himself away, obviously wishing he wasn't. With a low clearing of his throat, he pushed his way towards the bedroom door.

"Wait," Murrue softly called out.—not loud enough for Evi to hear, but perfect for Mu.

He slowly turned to her. She was sitting neatly up in the bed, a sigh to her eyes, yet a smile to her full lips.

"You should at least change your shirt," she mused, looking him over from the different angle. He wasn't dripping wet anymore, but his shirt was completely drenched in cleaning water. His pants were wet too, but nothing like his shirt.

"Huh, you're right," Mu muttered to himself, looking over in a mirror. Without hesitation he pulled off his shirt and tossed the wet top to the floor. Murrue slightly looked away.

"Daddy . . . ? Mama . . . ?" Evi's voice came again, quivering slightly from the still missing figures of her parents.

"One second, Evi," Murrue called as Mu finally found a replacement for his soaked shirt. As he pulled it on, he looked over at Murrue and couldn't help his own laugh.

"Maybe _you_ should change your shirt too, Murrue," he grinned knowingly. Suddenly blushing, Murrue glanced down. Her clothes, too, were wet. That's what she got for being with Mu's while he was still soaked from his unexpected 'shower'.

With a grin, Mu finally left the bedroom, tidy as he could be and closing the door behind him.

Murrue could easily hear what went on outside.

"Daddy!" Evi bounded up to her father from her seat beside the door.

"Yeah, sorry I took so long, Kiddo," Mu smiled, ruffling her long dirt-blonde hair—today in braids.

"Daddy? Where'd Mama go?" Evi cocked her head, looking around. "Didn't she go in there with you?"

"Oh," Mu smiled in faint surprise before lightly clearing his throat. "Mama got her shirt wet too when she was cleaning, so she's changing."

"Oh," Evi understood. The daughter looked up at her father towering above her, his grinning face, loving eyes and . . . His quickly drying hair fell across his face, parts of it flattened down, other parts poofy and sticking up. He just looked so odd, Evi couldn't stop smiling . . . then grinning . . . then laughing.

"Hey," Mu pouted slightly. "What's so funny?"

"Daddy," Evi got out between her giggles, "you look so _weird_."

"Do I?"

"Yep, just like a clown."

Anything said after that was drowned out by the screams of tickling laughter coming from Evi as Mu swept the young girl off her feet and into his arms, over his head.

"Do I look like a clown _now_?" He mused, still twirling his little girl around.

"Put me down, Daddy," she laughed, screaming in fun. "Put me down!"

"Fine," he huffed, but bringing her down far enough to rest her on his hip, but still holding her off the ground. "_That's_ what you get for calling me a clown."

Evi smiled.

It was the first moment since Mu had stepped inside that he had nothing pressing on his mind. And that calming freedom brought a wondrous scent.

"Mmmm, that smells good.—What's burning?"

The door behind them slammed open. The pair turned around to see Murrue's playful, scolding self in the doorway, clothes changed, hands on hips.

"They are _Mama's_ Valentine's Day cookies and they are _not_ burning," she huffed, daggers flashing from her dark amber eyes.

"Well, you never know," Mu shot back with a grin as Murrue made way her over to the stove—the source of the enchanting smell. Mu watched Evi follow her mother with hungry eyes and it made him smile.

After preparing her hands for the stove, Murrue bent down to pull out the large pan dotted in expertly shaped pink hearts.

"See? Perfect." Murrue couldn't resist a gloating smirk, eyes flashing towards Mu. His eyes narrowed in return. She'd won that round.

Murrue, hot tray in hand, walked over to their table and set it down beside the crystal vases filled to the brim with roses.

Mu went to sneak one of the pink hearts, but Murrue swatted at his hand first.

"Don't take it yet, Mu! They're too hot," she warned quietly, Evi in his other arm still giggling at the playfully hurt expression on Mu's face.

"Aw, but I want one," he mumbled, setting Evi down to sit on the table—far enough away from the hot tray to keep her safe.

"You have to wait, Daddy," Evi grinned. "Mama has to put the frosting on them first."

Mu blinked in realization. There was more? Murrue had appeared beside him again, big bowl of pink frosting in her arms. He was surprised—he didn't notice her leave.

"We'll take a short break from our cleaning, okay?" Mu and Evi hurriedly nodded in return.

One by one Murrue carefully topped off each cookie, each one becoming all the more delectable. Mu couldn't wait anymore. His hand touched hers lightly.

Murrue sighed, rolling her eyes. "_Yes_, you can take one _now_, Mu.—Really, you're such a child." But Mu didn't hear her, he was too busy eating—same with Evi, she'd gotten her small hands on one of the fresh treats as well.

Giving in to her own temptations, Murrue set aside a pink heart for herself before walking off. She went back into the kitchen to search for something to put the rest of the treats in, but by the time she found it, three more cookies were missing from the tray.

Murrue paused, arching her eyebrow a bit. Evi had another one and she was breaking apart and Mu was grinning, chewing and holding a whole heart in his hand.

Knowing that she'd get no where with him arguing, Murrue just sighed and began to put the remaining cookies away before they, too, fell prey to _him_.

"Poor, Mattie," Evi grinned, swinging her legs from her spot on the table. "Mattie doesn't get one of these cookies while they're really, really good!"

"I'm sure it'll be okay," Murrue smiled. Evi may haveliked the treats warm and soft but Matt liked them best when they had had a chance to cool.

"So Matt didn't want to get out of bed, huh?" Mu wondered aloud, finally clearing his mouth.

"Yep, that's right," Evi smiled, happily eating another piece to her pink heart. Mu followed her example, practically swallowing the cookie in his hand. Murrue though, having not even touched her set aside treat, looked down, slight worry to her eyes.

"Maybe I should get him then," she muttered thinking about her son downstairs.

"Oh, let's not force him," Mu smiled reassuringly, wrapping his arms around his wife. "He's been getting a bit of a cold lately after all. . . . Don't want him getting sick, now, do we?"

"No," Murrue muttered, leaning into him. "I guess not."

Their moment together gave way to such silence, Mu and Murrue would have welcomed it—if not for their young daughter staring at them from across the table.

Everything suddenly felt awkward.

Mu cleared his throat, pulling away from Murrue as she suddenly walked towards the sink, pink to her cheeks.

"Mu, we should get back to work on that cleaning," she noted, seeing all the silver plates they were never going to use just soaking in the sink. "That stuff for tomorrow isn't going to wash itself after all . . ."

Evi cocked her head, quietly finishing off her cookie, still staring intently at her parents.

"Yeah, I should get to work on that old chair outside . . ." Mu realized, quickly making his way away from the table.

"Evi, mind if—" Murrue turned around just in time to see her pink frosted cookie missing from its place. Turning a bit more brought her face-to-face with Mu, happily chomping on the sweet.

"Mu!" She playfully scolded, hands finding hips. "You took my heart!"

"Ahh, but _you_ stole mine," Mu smoothly shot back, eyes twinkling as he swallowed.

Murrue lightly took in her breath in surprise, face reddening at his retort.

Evi cocked her head looking between her grinning father and blushing mother. She didn't get it.

"When'd she do that, Daddy? You already ate _your_ cookies."

Mu and Murrue stared back at the girl, russet eyes questioning the two. After a few moments of silence, Mu burst into deep laugher followed closely behind by Murrue's soft giggles.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart," Mu mused quietly, planting a soft kiss to his confused daughter's cheek in response, and then stealing one from his wife.


	2. Simple Lessons

Number Two! I kinda wrote Matt out--_again_. I guess you could say he hasn't been born yet. But next time he'll have a bigger part--Promise.

* * *

**II. Simple Lessons**

"Daddy, do I love you and Mama?" Mu nearly fell over at his young daughter's sudden question. The surprise on his face shone clear, Murrue nearly laughing because of it.

Evi had walked up to him and now was standing before him, waiting for an answer. Not knowing what to say, Mu tried to put it in his simplest terms that Evi could understand.

"Well . . ." he wondered, "Do I love you?"

"Um . . . no." She grinned.

Mu was shocked—Evi seemed so sure. His shock showed. Evi scratched at her head, confused at his answer.

"Then . . . yes?" With her obvious puzzlement, Mu couldn't fight the urge to palm his face. Evi's face screwed up in return, hands finding hips.

"Oh, I don't _know_, Daddy," she huffed. "You're get me all confused! I don't know how to tell—That's why I asked you."

Mu stared back at his daughter, unsure of what to say. He glanced up at Murrue standing beside him for help, but she was awaiting his answer as well, expectant smile to her face. His clear eyes narrowed at the response.

An idea.

He knelt himself down on the hard kitchen floor to level himself with his daughter.

"C'mere," he muttered with open arms, grin to his face. Evi's face lit up as she ran to wrap her small arms around her father. A laugh rumbled deep in his chest as his hand found hers.

With confusion swirling in the brown eyes of both his wife and daughter, Mu guided his little girl's palm over his chest, letting it rest in a very particular place.

Through her hand he could feel his heart beating. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest . . . the steady reminder of _every_thing.

"There's your answer, Evi," he smiled, warmth to his features. Murrue smiled, looking on. Evi cocked her head, confused at the deep pulse she was feeling.

"This means you love . . . ?"

"Yes," Mu answered simply. He leaned closer to Evi and began to whisper, like it was some big secret. "This here beats only for you and your mother." One glance up to Murrue but more meaning to his words. "Always."

Fascinated by her father's explanation of 'love', Evi looked up to search his face. He just stared back. She cautiously moved forward and came close enough to rest her cheek on his hard chest.

Mu stole a look up at Murrue who had since sat down on the floor across from them. It was moments like this that made Mu and Murrue thankful for everything all over again.

Hearing his beat pulse through her had a strange, calming effect on the girl. She loved the sound, was entranced by it, and never wanted to be away from it. Never.

That love.

But, Evi did pull herself away, making a face as she did so. It was a face of distaste, but the soft sadness in her eyes stole the scene.

"But I don't have _that_ . . ." She mumbled, drawing herself away from her father's chest. He cocked his head.

"What do you mean?"

"I can tell, can't I?" Evi shrugged, slight annoyance to her tone. "I'd know if I had _that_." She pointed to his chest, to where she'd heard his heart.

Mu caught Murrue trying to stifle a small laugh.

"Evi . . ." He mused. Without waiting, Mu reached out to grab up Evi's small hand once more.

Her hand was so tiny as his curled around it. Mu held in an inward shudder at the knowledge. Her young hand was small, but he could remember a time when it was even smaller. She was growing up—somehow too fast for him to handle.

The hand he'd captured rested nicely in his, but Mu slid the exploring palm of Evi's onto her own chest and rested it over her own heart.

The shock and surprise on her face came instantly as she felt her own soft beat. Her utter awe at the truth was enchanting, her parents smiling as they looked on.

But that slight sadness came back.

"Ah, but it's not like _yours_, Daddy. . . ." She muttered, dropping her hand. "Does that mean—"

"That only means that you're still growing, Evi," Murrue chose that moment to softly cut in. The hidden exhaust in Mu's eyes was easy for her to see.

He smiled as Murrue turned Evi around to face her.

"Believe me, if you were Daddy's size, what you feel . . . it'd be so much bigger," Murrue whispered, unabashed excitement showing in her tone, dancing in her amber eyes.

Evi couldn't believe it.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Bigger than even _Daddy's_ . . . ?" Evi's eyes were so large at the idea, Murrue couldn't keep back a smile.

"If you want it to be."

Evi's face was so filled with sudden joy, it lit up the room instantly. The day had become a little brighter, the sunlight from outside a little warmer, the melting of parent's hearts a little faster.

But her smile fell soon to a thoughtful mission. Slowly, she moved closer to her mother, frequently glancing up into Murrue's face to make sure it was okay. When she came close enough, and Murrue still hadn't shooed her away, Evi's smile returned as she jumped into her mother's arms, squeezing tightly.

"Evi!"

But Evi wasn't listening. She was busy nuzzling her face closer to her mother's chest, eyes closed, straining to find it.

When Murrue's hurried heartbeat came to Evi's ear, the wonder in their daughter's face had them falling in love again.

"Ah!" The girl could contain herself, pulling away. "Mama's got it too!" She grinned, pulling herself closer again. "I can feel it! Mama loves us too, Daddy!"

"Yes," he murmured quietly, eyes dancing. "Yes, she does."


	3. To Marry

Okay, does this still count as a fanfiction? Well, it's more like a fanfic for my fanfic . . . Oh, well, I've had this idea in my head forever.

Imagine twenty years into the future after It Should've Been Me and it's Evi's wedding day . . . Yeah, I know, a bit extreme, but—again—I've had this idea for so darn _long._

Oh, and I know you've realized by now, but I write Matt out of all the scenes a _lot_ so here, finally, he has a bigger part like promised! (and he's more different than either you or I imagined—or rather you imagined, I always thought he'd grow up this way.)

By the way, beware out-of-character-ness. I know, it's been 20 years, but _still_. Out-of Character-ness.

* * *

**III. To Marry**

Her eyes glanced up at their reflection, but before she could see it, her eyes had focused on her hands again. Part of her didn't understand the sudden avoidance, but the other half of her knew it all.

Taking another risk, she let her eyes slide up, catching on the color opposite. Her eyes didn't have a chance to hide because she had started studying that face across from her.

The deep russet of the eyes, the thick of curled lashes, fullness of a small mouth, the smoothness of the fair skin, even the deep auburn of the soft waves that cupped her face . . . It was all hers. Even though she couldn't personally remember, the image fuzzy in her mind, she knew who she looked most like.

With a soft sigh, she lightly ran her fingers through the hair that only ran up to past her earlobes—now adorned with pearl diamond earrings that shone in the soft light. Her fingers ran across her bare neck, wishing she could find a necklace to fit.

She looked down, eyes washing over the silken ivory that draped her, and in her mind she could imagine the one that had sat there before her. It sent a chill down her spine just thinking about the possibilities.

A familiar voice pulled her from her reverie.

"Knock, Knock," a tentative grin came from the cracked door. "Can I come in?"

"Dad!" She flew to her feet at his voice and intruding figure. He stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do next. The shocked surprise in her voice told him to go away, but the beaming smile that adorned her face called him closer.

With a soft grin, his hand found his neck.

"Yeah, I know they say it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, but I figured since I'm not the one getting married today that it'd be okay."

"Of _course_ it's okay," she assured, unable to keep the bright smile from her lips. _Him_ being there . . .—Everything seemed all the more possible. The young beauty kept smiling. "I'm just fixing make-up and such. Come, close the door."

With a partially relieved breath, the man moved closer, walking into the brighter light of the window. His hair was neat, black tux perfect—it seemed all the more unnatural.

"How you doing, Evi?" He asked, partially out of breath. "All right?"

"I'm fine, Daddy," Evi laughed, calming his nerves. "It's one of the happiest day's of my life. How could I not be?"

Mu sighed again in even more relief, feeling the aging lines all the years had given him melt off his face. They were only really noticeable when he was worried. That Evi had just started to notice.

Mu stepped closer, sliding a long black box from his pocket, grin brightening his face even more.

"I want to make your day even better," he told her, holding the gift before him, before his daughter.

"And how can you do that?" She subtly teased, daintily taking the box from him. It felt light in her hands, but was weighted down with her unnoticeable fear.

"Well, I can make the impossible possible, if that's what you mean," Mu teased back, making Evi laugh lightly at the memories as she pried the long box open.

She gasped.

Mu's eyes washed over his daughter, taking in the image of her, never wanting to forget it.

There she stood, fully dressed in her satin wedding dress. His daughter . . . getting married. Her short, cropped hair that resembled Murrue's so much was even pulled back slightly but pieces too short expertly framed her face. There was a slight pink to her rose cheeks, something more than the rouge she'd brushed on earlier. Thin fingers shook gently over her painted mouth and her eyes . . . In her eyes, the deep russet shone, Mu surprised to see the beginnings of tears there.

"How . . ." She whispered, staring down at the ornate diamond necklace he'd passed on to her. She'd seen it before—countless times. Oh, if only she'd counted how many times she'd stared at that photograph . . . for then she'd know how many times she'd wished for it.

Mu softly broke the silence.

"I gave this to your mother for her birthday, but she wore it on our wedding day. I don't really remember her wearing it again after that—but I didn't really focus on her necklaces either. . . ."

"Dad . . ." Evi had to force herself to speak, the loss of air from her chest keeping her quiet. She blinked back un-Evi-like tears as Mu looked on, smiling softly.

"I know she would've wanted you to have it, Evi," he murmured, matching the mood with his quiet tone.

She looked up at him, tears shining through her unstoppable grin. Without any more hesitation, she jumped forward, wrapping her arms around her father's neck. She hung there in suspended joy, letting tears slowly run down her cheeks. Evi softly cried.

"Oh, Daddy . . ." Mu's light hold on her tightened as she hugged him. ". . . Thank you."

Mu went to pat down her hair, but froze, past familiarity rushing back.

"Evi," he croaked slightly, her tight grip helping the air to rush from him. "Evi . . ." His hands around her waist pulled her away.

"Huh?" The young woman cocked her head, soft auburn hair falling from the place behind her ears.

Mu grinned.

"C'mon. We don't want your make-up to run, now do we?" He smiled, lightly wiping away crystal tears. "You want to be more beautiful than usual on your wedding day, right?"

Realization blinked into Evi's face as she sheepishly pulled away from her father.

"Oh, oh, yeah . . ." She walked back to the vanity and sat down, checking the tear damage in the mirror. "It's not that bad, is it?" She wondered, trying to find where her make-up had run like her father said. But her head was so muddled in the moment—she didn't realize she'd never had any make-up on to start with.

Mu's attention was caught else where. The necklace that had made Evi cry, the one Murrue had worn, the one he'd given to his daughter . . . It was missing from Evi's dainty hands. His eyes searched the room, spotting the long black box resting on one of the ornate wooden stands. It rested as if forgotten.

"—ad? . . . Daddy?"

"Hm?" Mu broke from his arresting thoughts to see his daughter looking back at him from her seat on the vanity, face half done-up.

Mu held in his surprise at her face.

Evi's one joyfully tearing face was now covered in worry. Her troubled stare didn't lessen as it stared back into his crystal eyes. It only seemed to intensify.

"Dad, is something wrong?"

Mu blinked back even more shock. "What? No! I was . . . I was just thinking is all."

"About what?" She subtly challenged, russet eyes flashing. In that moment, Mu couldn't help but see Murrue glaring back at him. He turned his face away, clearing his throat.

"We were married here you know, your mother and I?"

"Yep, I know," Evi smiled, softly brimming in delight. "That's why he and I chose this place after all. . . ."

Playful wonder erupted into Evi's face and tone. She lightly clapped her hands together in excitement. "Oh—Mom was already going to have me when you two got married, right?" She over-played a wink at him, knowing full well what it meant.

Mu turned his face away, slight pink to his cheeks at the sudden awkward turn in the conversation. It was an awkward conversation to start with, but this—This was his _daughter_.

"Wow," she softly muttered to herself, wild challenge rushing in her eyes. "_Wow_. You two must have either been really bored or really busy. . . ."

"_Evi_!" Mu flushed a deep red as he shouted back at his daughter.

She couldn't hold back her laughter.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Daddy," she smiled, hand daintily pushing his distress aside. "I mean," she continued, "we are both mature adults after all.—Couldn't say the same about Matt, though."

Mu wanted to laughout loud at the 'mature adults' part, but held himself back. He had steadied himself, blush subsiding.

"Oh, really?" He scoffed back, quickly regaining his edge. "Well you'll find out _exactly_ how uncomfortable a conversation this is when you take it up _your_ daughter—or son, rather."

Evi's face turned so red, the light rouge to her face paled greatly in comparison. She tried to speak between the thin fingers she'd pressed across her mouth.

"You _know_?" She strangled her whisper, russet eyes trained on her now whole-heartedly laughing father.

The tables had turned.

"Of course I _know_, you kidding?" He laughed, waving her heart-stopping surprise aside in mocking victory. "I've got connections."

"But—But _he_ doesn't even know yet," she stammered, flushing in her father's over-casual manner on such a topic.

"You gonna spring it on him?" Mu asked, eyes mischievously twinkling.

"W-what?" Evi's blush deepened at the sudden change of subject.

Mu, though, turned on a more tactical, lecturing approach.

"Are you gonna tell him when he's still your fiancé or your husband? Personally, I'd go for husband—or better yet, tell him after you two have—"

"_Dad_!" Evi suddenly burst,blush deepeningeven more. She began to literally push him towards the door as a last resort. Mu could have fended off the pushing, but Evi was amazingly strong for her petite form.

"Out!" Evi shouted, blushing.

"But, Evi—" Mu whined, grinning.

"_NO_!" She gave him one final push out the door, him almost toppling from the suddenness. Turning back to face her, he saw her bright red in embarrassment, but there was laughter to her shimmering eyes and tone.

"I have to get ready, you know!"

The door slammed.

Mu stood out in the hallway alone, sheepishly running his hand across the back of his neck and through his hair.

Their conversations ran over in his mind.

He smiled, but then . . .

"God, Murrue," he muttered to himself. Mu knew his late wife would come up with Evi more and more throughout the day. It was on those certain special days like this—Days when you expect that _some_body to be there—But they're not, they can't be.. . . It was on those 'certain special days' that itturns outyou cant ever seem to stop thinking about them.

"Hey!" Someone called for him down the hall, breaking him out of his quiet thoughts. "Dad! Hey!" Mu, looking up, could easily notice the other part of his family quickly jogging up to him, grin splashed across his face. "Hey, Dad," Matt laughed, finally pausing before his father. Mu looked on, forcing down his own laugh.

Matt had grown up nothing like expected. He used to be the quiet one, with the dark quality—But, as blonde Evi grew up to be like Murrue, Matt took on his father's appearance.

His blue-grey eyes hadn't changed, though they laughed more than stared, but everything else . . . Matt's short dark auburn had somehow shifted to a really dirty blond that the young man kept to his shoulders but pulled back into a short ponytail. There was a light stubble of hair growing across his chin, and for his personality . . .

It seemed as if Matt had become the _loudest_ man in every room.

He reminded Mu a lot of his younger self, but one _completely_ lacking in tact.—And to Mu that was a very . . . _scary_ thought.

Matt slapped his father heartily to the back. "You just see the bride?" He grinned.

"Yes actually." Mu clipped his words. "And she threw me out."

Matt deflated.

"Aw, so that means she'll really throw me out too." Mu's ears pricked up in interest. Matt went on moping.". . . Man, and I wanted to see . . ."

"See?" Mu cocked his head interested. "Her dress?"

"No, Dad," Matt sighed in annoyance. "I really wanted to see _it_. Evi _crying_—it's so rare for me to see after all. And they say that before going through with it, all these brides nowadays are bawling their eyes out in pain."

Mu didn't hesitate in smacking his son up the back of the head.

"It's 'crying their eyes out in _joy'_, you _idiot_." Mu spat with a grin. "_And_ it's not true."

"Well, for _some_ people maybe," Matt grinned back, challengeing. "But, trust me,Evi's definitely pegged down for _my_ kind of crying."

"Now, if you aren't the most considerate brother I've ever seen . . ." Mu shot coolly, sarcasm thick in his voice, arms crossed. Matt cocked his head, looking back at his father.

"Hey, don't gang up on me. I'm not against it or anything. They _are_ perfect for each other, but . . . But I _am_ the confirmed bachelor in the family. I've got my reasons for not liking these sort of things."

Mu faintly palmed his face.

"That makes no sense," He mumbled."Oh, and, Matt?"

"Yeah?"

Mu looked up,grinning."Don't forget. . . .You're the _only_ bachelor in the family."

"It doesn't change the fact I'm never gonna do it," the young man smiled in taunting return, waving his finger in his father's face. It made Mu grin—his expert roguish grin.

"It doesn't change the fact that you're gonna change your mind either . . ." Mu sighed.

"Huh?" Matt was taken off guard by his father's words, but before he could retort, Mu was busily pushing his son down the hallway.

"Matt, don't you have somewhere to be? Oh, like say . . . beside the Groom? As his Best Man?"

"Yeah, that's another thing I don't get. Why in hell did—" Matt started, quickly silenced by Mu. He wasn't going to let Matt ruin his sister's wedding by mouthing off about the groom's choice.

-----

It was time. Everybody was waiting anxiously for the music to begin. Everybody was anxiously for the bride to make appearance. But Mu knew for sure that he was the most anxious—with the exception of the groom, of course. Mu tried to calm his nerves by glancing around, eyes instinctively shifting down the aisle.

He could see the groom, dressed all up in black and everything. It wasn't hard to make out Matt standing casually beside. His shaggy, dirty blond, almost clashed with the groom's longdark locks. The two seemed quite a pair, but . . . Mu thought he was only imagining it—it was impossible from such a distance—but he could just feel that man's piercing emerald stare right on him.

He lightly sighed—he'd never find out why she'd chosen _him_. Mu could neversee what ever it was she'd seen in _him_. Why'd it have to be _him_?

Running his fingers lightly through his thinning hair, Mu took a deep breath. The waiting was getting to him, but he knew he could wait forever. Somewhere in his heart, Mu knew he didn't want it to happen. . . .

His daughter . . . taken away.

The music began—the universal chord that singled the bride's appearance. He numbly watched as each bridesmaid met with one of the groom's men and walked slowly down the aisle. To Mu, the long procession didn't matter. What did was what followednext.

Evi came out, allowing the world to witness her beauty, but . . .

Mu saw her first.

A thin veil shielded her face, but Mu could easily see the smile radiating from her every look. The long ivory of her dress flowed with every strong step, bouquet of white and red roses grasped meaningfully in her hands. She met up with her father at the end of the long aisle, and lightly rested her hands on his arm.

He looked her over one more time and the air filed from him in utter surprise.

The silver diamond necklace he'd given Murrue who'd thenworn it for their wedding . . . The silver diamond necklace he'd then given to Evi . . . It was wrapped about her neck, a necklace worn for _her_ wedding.

And it was aperfect fit.

A smile was shared between father and daughter, a signal of mutual love,a signal to start walking.

As Mu led his child, his first born, his love, his life, his pride, his joy, his daughter . . .his Evi down the aisle, nothing was spoken between the two. Nothing could have been.

Mu's mind was too busy being blank yet running over with incomprehensible thoughts at the same time, and Evi's . . . She was too overcome.

As they reached the end of the long aisle, and the time had finally come, Evi stopped him.

Without waiting for an invitation, Mu lightly pulled back Evi's wedding veil. Her sparkling eyes were easier to see that way. Mu leaned forward and placed a light kiss to his daughter's cheek.

"Love you," he softly muttered.

Mu went to pull away, but Evi held him back.

"Do you think Mom's watching?" She whispered grabbing his hand tightly. She'd obviously been thinking about it—long and hard.

"What do you think, Evi?" Mu asked back quietly, squeezing her hand in return, reassuring,as she broke out in the brightest of smiles.

"Yes!"

She was overjoyed, Mu realized, the best day of her life indeed. But . . . it was one of his worst.

The time had come to let her go. His little girl had grown up and was getting married. Their hands clasped together was all that kept her by his side. And suddenly he never wanted to let go.

But she slipped out of his hold so easily, her hands eagerly finding his replacement—the groom's. She was gone.

Mu almost numbly stepped to the side, the ceremony starting before his eyes. He felt like the happiest person on Earth as well as the most miserable at the same time—a new and quite awkward feeling. He looked on smiling, inside grinning and breaking.

A thick hand placed itself upon his shoulder. Looking over, Matt was standing there, some smile to his strong face.

The rest of the ceremony went as planned. Mu struggled with his emotions when they said their vows, exchanged rings . . . kissed . . .

When they did kiss, Evi and her dark, handsome, groom, the entire place burst with clapping and cheers.

At that moment, the smile on Evi's face . . .

Beautiful.

-----

Outside, as the long limo drove away carrying the newlyweds, Mu couldn't resist his old familiar grin.

He could only imagine what was going on inside that car.. . .Mu froze, straightening himself out, blue eyes wide. The full weight of it all had suddenly become real.

He . . . he was going to be a . . . a grand-father.

'_Yes, that's right_,' a familiar voice sounded faintly in his mind. It'd been too long since he'd heard it.

Mu smiled. Sure, he knew he was only imagining it, but that voice was settling, even after so long.

The wind blew, faintly pushing some rogue hair before the man's eyes. As he went to re-set it, another feeling came, a light weight to his shoulder—so light he thought his mind was running away with his heart again. His fingers dashed across his empty shoulder as the soft pressure traveled lightly across his cheek.

'_Don't worry_,' the wind's whisper blew softly. '_I **am** watching_. _So don't worry._'

The breeze shifted, and the angelic pressure that had faintly wrapped itself around his shoulders . . . it was gone.

Mu's fingers touched his cheek, tracing where he'd felt it. He knew that feeling.

He'd never forget it.

_Murrue . . ._

"Hey, Dad!" Matt hailed from across the way. To no surprise to his father, Matt was leaning from another limousine that had pulled up.

Matt called again. "Dad! Reception time! Let's go _party_!"

Mu's shoulders sagged in exasperation, he couldn't believe what Matt had said. He was just sohappy Evi wasn't there to hear. It sounded like his son was only happy about the reception, caring nothing for the fact it wasone of the biggest days in his sister's _life_.

As he walked over to where his son was laughing it up with friends, Mu came up palming his face.

"Matt . . ." He softly groaned. "One day . . . I swear one day . . ."

"Hm?" The young man cocked his head, but didn't get an answer, and instead broke out in a huge grin. "C'mon, Dad!"

Without another word, Mu was being yanked into the long car. Matt threw him into a seat set beside him. The rest of the car . . . it was surprisingly empty.

Matt had wanted his father in first.

But after that, others started eagerly rushing in. Mu settled himself in his seat as the people filed in around him. He glanced over at his son: already kicking back, laughing away and having a hell of a time.

A thought crossed his mind: _Should Matt know that he's going to be an uncle?_

Mu smiled, settling himself in for the rowdy ride to the wedding party.

_Nah. . . . That can wait. . . . Matt'll probably get drunk and then he'd open his big mouth to everybody anyway . . . _

Mu grinned.

_Besides, a little Father-Daughter secret isn't such a bad thing, is it?

* * *

_

**AN**:This both came out like I wanted and not like I wanted so I'm only half satisfied. . . . Hmmm.

Oh, and looking back on it, I think Older Matt's like an odd mix between Mu, Dearka and Murdoch (with some other characters lightly tossed in). Why I think that and why I did that . . . I don't know.


	4. A New Baby

This is another idea I've had in my head awhile. "If Murrue didn't die and had her baby instead . . ." Also, Thanks to lithiumflower56 for helping me decide some things about this chapter!

Beware, Mu gets _**really**_ out-of-character here. I didn't know how to write him.

* * *

**IV. New Baby**

The doctor had come out.—The same one Mu had watched go through those doors after telling him what had happened. He'd finally come out, and now it was Mu's turn to get some answers.

"How is everything?" Mu asked, agitation high in his voice. It made him sound so weak, but he didn't care—not with what they were talking about.

"The baby's fine," the young doctor answered with a reassuring smile. A reassuring fake smile that faltered and dropped. ". . . But, sir, you'll have to stay out here."

Mu stared back at the doctor, silent. He didn't understand. Yet the doctor's quiet voice did nothing for his nerves. "There were . . . complications."

"Com-complications . . . ?"

The doctor glanced down at his hands. Somehow he wasn't able to look Mu in the eye.

"Even though the delivery went better than some of us had hoped, your wife . . ."

Mu couldn't breathe.

It couldn't be possible—No, it couldn't be—Not after so much. . . .

The young man in the coat that stood before Mu faltered—He must have easily seen the drain of color from Mu's tanned face.

"Bu-but," Mu quickly shot back. "But it's been _eight_ months since . . ." _since her sickness was taken care of. How . . . ?_

"It seems that your wife wasn't as strong as—" The man was cut off as a nurse ran into the room, breathless.

"_Doctor_!" She hurriedly called, quickly running back the way she came. Even without saying a closing word, the medical man ran off. Something was wrong.

Mu knew where. Even without thinking he knew, the way his heart seemed to skip every other beat told him where.

Feeling every eye of the semi-crowded waiting room on him, especially his daughter's, Mu stood alone for a moment, looking forward at nothing, strength focused on keeping himself strong.

He turned around and walked over to his chair from before. Sitting down he barely said a word. Evi shifted closer to her father cocked her head with inquisitive eyes.

"Daddy?"

Her young voice jolted him from the nightmare that was running before his eyes over and over again. As much as he wanted to stop it all, his mind wouldn't let him forget and his heart wouldn't stop sinking.

What was happening was . . .

"_Daddy_?"

"—Yes?" He cracked a smile, though he knew it nowhere near resembled one of his own. Mu somehow kept his smile going as he turned to face his little girl. "What is it, Evi?"

". . . Is there something wrong with Mama?" She muttered quietly, teetering forward in the waiting-room chair. She looked up at where the young doctor had stood minutes before. "She went over there, right?" Evi pointed towards the hospital doors. Mu couldn't keep off the un-believing smile—she was too observant.

Her next whispered words took his smile and shredded it along with the weak hold he'd built on himself. "When something's wrong with Mama, Daddy, you get very quiet.—Quieter than even Mattie." Her probing stare took everything he had left and shattered it.

"Oh . . . Evi . . ."

Mu slowly reached out to his young daughter, arms enfolding the small girl, bringing her closer. She could feel his shallow breaths across her neck, his faintly shaking body holding her small frame. He touched her like the finest glass, as if afraid she, too, would break if he held her too tight. Evi was stunned silent. She never felt Daddy so . . .

She hugged him back, small arms encircling his thick neck, unsure of what to do. _Daddy_ always knew what to do, but _she_ wasn't Daddy.

"She's okay," Mu whispered reassuringly. "Remember that, Evi. She's okay."

She nodded, smiling, loving it curled up against his chest.

It wasn't long until the little girl fell asleep wrapped up his arms, his thick shoulder her pillow. Mu could only imagine what excited and happy thoughts ran through her mind as she drifted off thinking about her new sister or brother. The idea made him smile.

But, he had only just stopped shaking from fear and his mind wasn't so simple to forget about everything. As each moment passed Mu's mind forced itself to believe that everything was okay, but hidden not-so-deep and growing came the realization that he was losing Murrue . . . again. And there was absolutely nothing he could do.

Nothing he was doing. Even though Murrue was . . .

"Sorry, it took so long!" The smiling voice caught Mu's attention, but the young nurse wasn't the same one from the before, but another from the Maternity ward. Mu remembered her. She was the one who took Matt when the kid started complaining about how hungry he was.

Mu looked up and struggled with a slight wave. Evi was occupying both his arms at the moment.

The nurse smiled and pulled the young Matthew along beside her. He was slow in his steps—still a bit wobbly on his feet though strong enough to walk alone. Matt suffered a wave towards his waiting father who returned it with a grin.

"You'd be amazed at how long it takes to find some suitable food for our Matt here," the nurse relayed with a genuine smile. "See, we don't usually get such young patients here—other than newborns of course."

"Yep, Daddy," Matt smiled, bounding out of the nurse's hold and running up to Mu. The boy took one look at his curled up sister and cocked his head. "Evi . . . Sleeping?"

"Yeah," Mu sighed with a grin. "Everybody's tired, Kiddo." Matt glanced around.

"Is Mommy tired too?"

Mu suffered in silence for a moment. His mouth had gone surprisingly dry.

"Yes," he finally nodded. "Yeah, that's why we can't wake her up." Mu froze at his own words. They brought reality back. ". . . right now," he added quickly to help himself. His heart began to race thinking about what lay beyond those closed doors. "We can't wake her up right now because she's tired."

"Oh, okay." Matt smiled, pleased with the explanation. The young boy thought to himself a moment before reaching both his arms up towards his sitting father.

Mu's eyebrows arched at the gesture. Clearly a sign for him to pick the boy up. Of course, it didn't seem to matter Mu was tied down with Evi at the moment.

"Um . . . Matt?" Mu didn't know what to say next. The kid was too small to get onto the chair beside by himself but Mu couldn't just leave him there on the floor. The young nurse that had been so helpful before had gone off somewhere and the semi-filled waiting room was still—nobody moving to help.

"Here, c'mere."

With a loud sigh, Mu went to shift Evi over onto his other shoulder so he'd have at least one side of his body open to movement. She kept sleeping as Mu struggled to balance her and raising Matt, him finally collapsing in the less-than-comfy hospital chair one child to each arm.

He was absolutely tired from the feat that made him realize two major things: his children were getting too old too fast and _he_ was getting too old too fast.

Matt happily snuggled up into his father. He was used to naps after eating, so, with a few words, the young boy was naturally sound asleep.

If Mu could, he would have palmed his face or something at the overwhelming of reality. But he couldn't resist a small smile. He could barely hold two kids—what about the third one? He might have to grow another arm.

But, the foreboding silence of the hospital waiting room reminded him of what was going on beyond those doors. It all came flooding back.

It was too much to handle, and, needing a break, Mu took a deep breath and closed his eyes trying to focus his mind on something that couldn't get him riled up. His breathing and their breathing—a calming thought.

Mu could've drifted off to sleep—if he did, he didn't realize.

It was only when that doctor came again—the young man from before . . . It was only then that Mu "woke-up" to see the man standing there. Mu quickly studied the face, but it was so drawn, Mu could decipher any news from the doctor's face—good or bad.

"Mister LaFlaga, you're needed in the-ah . . ." The doctor faltered. Mu had tried to stand, but forgot about the two kids wrapped around his neck and almost toppled over. Mu, pinned to the chair, could only palm at his face—mind too busy spinning for him to actually say anything.

Something came, sweeping across the hospital floor. Mu only looked up when he felt Matt's weight being lifted off his shoulder.

It was that nurse. The one who'd helped before. She'd curled the young kid in her own arms, smiling sunshine—as always.

"I'll watch them," she said quietly as another nurse came over to help pry Evi off Mu as well. "This is a time for _you_ after all."

The second he was free, Mu was quickly on his feet, but before he literally ran from the room, Mu had enough charismatic sense to spin around and face the name-less woman who'd been so kind to him.

"Thank you."

All she did was smile back as Mu disappeared from the room. All his thoughts ran together—nothing solid and stable coming to mind. Part of him was scared—scared beyond anything else in life. Another part was ecstatic—happiness knowing no bounds. He couldn't choose what to feel, but quickly dread filled in more.

That doctor's face . . . Mu hadn't seen a smile—at all.

What if . . . Murrue . . .—What if—

Mu quickly followed the doctor's hollow steps, easily making the sharp turn into a separate hallway.

Mu didn't know where he was going, but part of him was too afraid to know.

One more turn and the doctor stopped him. The young man pointed towards a window quietly.

Mu was toostunned to notice, heart literally stopped, for in the window was . . .

"C-Can I go in . . . ?" Mu stammered, mind completely losing his sense of the world. "C-Can I see her . . . ?"

It was too much.

The young doctor motioned Mu in through the doors and the older man stumbled in.

Mu could see her. He could see her now. But . . .

Part of him wanted so much to just cry, but he struggled to keep himself in check and he began shaking instead.

Murrue _was_ there. She was—

"You're late," she huffed, dark eyes glaring at him in his doorway post.

Mu opened his mouth to give some smart retort, but every thought in his mind flew away from his grasp. Seeing Murrue there, glaring back at him as he came closer . . . it all just made him smile.

"I know," he muttered, face melting into a warm, heart-stirring smile.

Almost cautious in his steps, Mu slowly made his way to beside her, beside the hospital bed.

He could see Murrue lying there, propped up and strong. He could see the bundle wrapped up in her arms. He could see it move, and he could see her smile. But his mind couldn't register it.

It didn't seem possible.

But Murrue fixed that idea.

"It's a girl," she whispered, the dark amber of her eyes catching his. Glancing down at the baby girl, Mu's eyebrows arched, roguish grin returning at the thought.

"Another Evi?" He mused, regaining himself.

Murrue nearly deflated at the idea, shoulders sagging in playful weakness.

"Hope not," she sighed looking down at their daughter once more. Mu's face stretched even more at his wife's reaction. He couldn't hold it back. He laughed.

Mu's deep, open chuckle sounded in the room and all those that heard it turned to look. But he didn't notice, nor did he care. At his warm laugh, the young baby had begun to stir. She reached up with her tiny frail hand, young fingers just brushing his bare arm.

Mu froze.

"She's so tiny . . ." He muttered, eyes narrowing. Without thinking he brought his hand out to touch her, as if to check whether she was real.

"She'll grow up," Murrue smiled in assurance, thin hand moving up to touch at his wrist. Mu's mind took a tumble at the sudden reality.

"Oh, God."

Murrue couldn't resist a soft giggle at his reaction. She reached for his hand and guided it to the baby's. The young hand curled lightly around his finger and Mu's heart soared.

"You're a father, Mu.—Again." Murrue smiled. She couldn't believe it. A third child. With him. Together. Another miracle.

She spoke again, voice quiet and wispy, the pure exhaustion of hers shining through at that moment. Mu would've been overcome with worry, but her words erased it all.

"_Look what we've made_."

At her words, everything came rushing back. Everything from what happened in the waiting room to when he'd gotten the call that she was in labor. Everything that had rushed through his mind then rushed back now—especially those moments from before when he'd thought . . .

He surprised her when he tilted forward. He surprised everybody in the room when he steadied himself by placing his thick hands to her weakened shoulders. The tears he'd been holding back in the waiting room slowly spilled then, shamefully falling from his closed eyes. Murrue felt them fall onto her cheeks, mixing with the growing buds of her own. She smiled.

As much as Mu tried to keep composure, he couldn't stop the slow but steady flow.

For moments there he thought he'd lost her again. He thought he'd lost them _both_ again.

But he _hadn't_ lost them. They were both there—with him. The baby . . . Murrue . . . They were still there. They were okay.

Only the young nurse's soft voice wafted through the loving silence.

"Should I bring the other children in, sir?" Mu didn't answer her, but Murrue did. She could see the answer dancing in his eyes.

"Yes," the mother smiled. "They'll want to see, wont they, Mu?" He nodded, regaining his stunned sense as Murrue motherly fixed the pink blanket wrapped about their baby. Mu watched, grin unable to leave his face.

Mu was too happy, even to speak—the only thing he could manage to do was hang on.

Murrue felt his hot, unsteady breath dance across her neck. She could easily feel his thick, strong hands slightly shaking on her shoulders. She could only imagine what had been going through his mind.

"I love you," she whispered, shifting slightly to kiss him on the cheek. Mu smiled at the gesture. His blue eyes were too focused, drifting across the baby's soft face. His gaze caught hers and a sudden fear shot through his heart. _What would_—But Mu pushed that feeling away. He knew it would be okay. After all . . .

Their newborn daughter was held tightly in his wife's arms.


	5. One Week

This is a bit awkwardly written, but hopefully it works. And this is set _right_ after 'It Should've Been Me'.

* * *

**V.One Week**

Mu sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes. The news was on, and he was forcing himself to watch, hoping that something—_any_thing could be on that he could care about. But there was no war, no deaths, nothing close enough to him to take the pain he was already feeling away.

He glanced up at the clock, thinking it must be some late hour, but his body was deceived. It had only been twenty minutes since he turned on the news. Not late at all.

But . . . He was so tired.

Giving into his body's demands, Mu pushed himself to his feet and stretched.

"C'mon, Matt, Evi," he mumbled without looking at them. "Time for bed." He had been waiting for some sort of retort, some huff of annoyance, some cry of 'not being tired', but when none came, an unreasonable terror shot through his heart, gone in the same instant. Blinking sleep and confusion from his eyes, Mu turned around.

"Evi? . . . Ma—" Mu stopped mid-thought, the truth being known to him.

His children hadn't answered him, but it was okay. The two young kids were sprawled out on the couch—each sleeping so soundly, Mu thought he himself was the one dreaming.

"Ah, you're tired too?" He muttered softly, bending down to them. He ran his thick fingers lightly through their thin hair, trying hard not to wake either of them. He couldn't waste it.

With a fatherly smile he couldn't hide if he wanted to, Mu quietly walked off in search of the folded blankets. The trouble was that wherever he looked, he couldn't find them.

"Aw, come on," he spat to himself, glancing around the room. "I know Murrue kept them around here somewhere . . . See, the problem is, she's always putting things away and I don't know where . . .—Oh! _Here_ they are." Mu couldn't resist a sheepish grin when he opened the linen closet door to see the multicolored towels, sheets and blankets awaiting him. "Always the last place someone looks. . . ." Mu gritted his teeth before pulling out two thick blankets—one a rich red, one a deep blue. He triumphantly carried the sheets back to couch where Evi and Matt were silently sleeping.

After covering each child with separate blankets and tucking each one in, Mu pulled back to survey his handiwork. The two seemed so innocent curling up on the couch.

Mu smiled again, crystal blue eyes slowly dancing as he leant forward and whispered sweet good-nights to his children's ears and gave them each a soft kiss. He struggled to not wake them. But one did stir.

_Evi . . . Should've known. . . ._

Evi clutched at the red blanket around her and pulled it closer, snuggling into its warmth. Mu smiled warmly and let his fingers dash across Evi's face, pulling some soft hair away.

"Mmm," she stirred. "Night, Mama," she muttered, lost in her dreams. But Mu had pulled away, and was staring down at her. His blue eyes were ice and his chest was so tight, breathing seemed impossible. But Mu didn't notice.

"Good-night, Evi," Mu uttered quietly as he walked away. He never saw how his hands were shaking.

He kept walking like that, unaware of everything until he finally came to his own bedroom door. But the sigh of relief that quickly escaped him then . . . surprised him.

Why did he feel so . . . happy? Was 'happy' even the right word?

Mu yawned again, and began to numbly fiddle with the doorknob—he didn't know why he didn't just walk in. The door wasn't locked or anything.

He ran fingers through his thick hair, unbeknownst to how he was stalling. Mu glanced about the open kitchen and he easily could see routine shining through. A hollow smile played with his features. Dinner was cleaned away—only a few things left to be cleaned—there was a ceramic jar of old hard cookies in the corner, the morning's paper set in a stack beside it, and Evi and Matt's latest creations were hanging up somewhere.

The only difference was how empty it seemed, everything cast in shadow by faint moonlight.—With Evi and Matt asleep, usually he and Murrue would hang out a bit in the kitchen before going off to bed.

But Murrue wasn't there. She was gone.

It had been a week since _then_. Murrue's funeral. "Only one week"—"Just one week"—they both meant the same thing in his mind. Seven days of struggle, seven days of running, seven days of saving, seven days of never moving. But for this one day, to all of them, it didn't matter if they just stopped. It didn't matter if he failed in trying to get life itself back on track. Nobody would mind if he took the day off from trying to put some semblance of order back into everything. Nobody would notice if he gave up trying for one day. . . . if, for one day, he let it all go.

Tomorrow would be different. He'd be the pinnacle of "getting over and moving on", the pinnacle of strength.

But that was tomorrow and this was today. His day. His day to do absolutely nothing. His day to set back everything he'd accomplished in those seven days, crashing it all down just for him. Never had he ever thought he could be so weak.—but that was Murrue for him. He may have been strong, but she was the pillar beneath him too. And now she was gone. Her funeral was exactly a week before. But today . . . it was her day too. Her Birthday.

And that was exactly why it was so hard to stand.

A bouquet of twelve perfect red roses rested in a crystal vase on the kitchen table. He'd put them there. No matter how much it hurt to do it, Mu got up early and bought them—just like he would have done if Murrue was still alive. Mu also knew of the jeweled bracelet and earrings that were wrapped-up nicely resting in the bedroom's drawers. He'd bought them a few weeks ago, certain she'd absolutely love it. He was waiting for her birthday to see her eyes light up at the sight. Her birthday had come though, and it still sat there, wrapped, and there was no amber left to ever gaze down upon the gifts.

Mu shook at his aching head—he was letting his mind run away with his heart again. No, with his aching heart. If his mind had run away with just his heart, the thoughts that would consume him would be dreams—not truthful nightmares.

"That's it," he muttered, thick hand wrenching the bedroom door open.

His room—their room.

He could see the large bed across from him, the vainity, dresser, nightstands—everything. Nothing had been changed since then. Some moon splashed through the window creating an array across the carpet that added a soft glow to the entire room.

It was somehow . . . peaceful.

And then he realized.

He was alone. Purely alone.

Mu couldn't hold back the way his body sagged in relief and a small smile danced across his tight lips. His mind started hating how uncontrollably happy he was at the thought. How he'd subconsciously wished for it:

A night alone.

Mu couldn't believe how much he wanted "alone", for he was sure that he'd been alone all that time, hating every second of it.

It had been a week since the funeral and everyday was another they were struggling to get through. The hidden quiet was both hated and welcomed as it snuck beneath the forced laughs and fake smiles and sympathetic phone calls that never seemed to end. . . . Those ruled the days.—And they were all used to it by now.

But the night connecting those days were different. Mu couldn't remember the last time he'd had a nice restful sleep.

Mu hadn't had a single night where Evi wasn't kicking him in her sleep or where he wasn't afraid of crushing Matt if he somehow turned the wrong way. The two kids had taken up refuge in his huge bed since that night. He'd let them after the nights of crying he heard coming from their room after another day of trying to make everything alright.

Part of him was grateful for the company, but, as he was now, he was grateful for being alone.

Mu looked into the mirror as he changed for bed, the silence quickly getting to him as he could see lines on his face he hadn't noticed before. His face was flat, almost empty, and a true grin would look too out of place. When did that change?

It was the face of lost love. But the face in the photographs he'd salvaged: the laughing, jovial features, eyes always dancing . . . That was the face of a man in love—the happiest in the world.

Happy just to be with her.

Mu shook at his head as it began to hurt once more. He leaned forward, head in hands, trying to steady the spinning world around him.

"I need sleep," he grumbled. It was too tiring of a day—no, of a _week_ to keep up in. Without even bothering to continue changing clothes, Mu let his heavy body just curl onto the bed in what he had on, grateful for the easing comfort. He felt himself quickly slipping into the drugging world of sleep, he, sprawled across the bed he'd shared.

But as he lay there, the release he needed, the slumber he craved and was so close to, it danced just out of reach.

Mu shifted.

Nothing felt right.

Though his body wanted desperately to fall asleep—to wake up and have it be a new day—his arms ached, restlessly keeping him away. They itched with the urge for something to do.

As Mu lay there, spread out in his empty bed, the familiar scent that lingered there overcame him again. It made him finally he realize . . .

His arms weren't aching for something to _do_, but for something to _hold_. Over the past years, he'd gone to sleep with her curled up in his arms. Now, with nothing there . . . what was he to hold?

Weary and aggravated, Mu tossed himself around till he came to lie on his stomach, face buried in his pillow. He wrapped his arms around it, but that only made it uncomfortable. With a huff, Mu moved again, him getting increasingly annoyed at his inability to sleep. He found himself on his side once more, arms now aching, throbbing in restlessness. He collapsed deeper into the bed in weak defeat. No problem had been solved.

But as Mu lay there, that familiar scent reached him again—the one he'd noticed only faintly before. But now it was stronger. Mu knew that scent. He'd reveled in it's sweet blossoming honey too many times to count. If he ever forgot it, he'd absolutely hate himself.

For it was _hers_.

Confused and curious, he pushed himself up and suddenly stared at the empty place beside him, dark eyes bright in awe. The solution to his sleep problem came to him then and Mu let himself fall once again into the mattress.

Sleep came easy. He could feel it take him away.

Mu nuzzled his face closer, arms' ache subsided. Murrue's pillow had been taken into his hold, his arms lightly wrapping around.—a perfect fit.

Familiarity took embrace of him, her scent and giving support as reassurance.

But even with his eyes closed, even though he could see her there curled beside him, Mu knew it wasn't true. Imagination couldn't take reality away.

But he could dream—if only for one night. And he smiled at the thought.

"Happy birthday," he whispered quietly, finally being pulled away into what he needed.

In the darkness of sleep, a tear slid from his eyes, finally resting, soaking into her pillow. In his sleep, his hold clamped tighter.

Hoping never to let go.

* * *

...

This was supposed to have one of those happy / "things are looking up" kind of endings, but I didn't put it in for some reason. I might put it up as sorta an 'epilogue' to this chapter (can I even do that?—if you don't mind a bit of 'randomness' then, yeah _maybe_)

Oh, and this was kind of influenced by my habit of 'snuggling' up to my pillow when I sleep. . . . Yeah . . .


	6. Loves Me, Loves Me Not PART 1

I don't know what got into me, but I just _had_ to write this story down. You'll see the return of a much loved character here—yep, it's Kara! Hopefully you can remember her and the . . . _incident_ between her and Mu. Well for this one I decided to turn the tables a bit . . .—and that's all I'm going to say at this point.

Also, I've decided to put this as a two-part short story seeing how it _is_ so long. So, here's Part One!

(This is an odd one for me—im not that good with a lot of OC interaction—and this has quite a bit, so it's a bit oddly written as well. Just a warning.)

* * *

**VI. Loves Me, Loves Me Not**

**Part One**

Murrue was home alone. Mu was off for a day of errands with both the kids and the house was empty besides her. It was quiet and menacingly vast, Murrue feeling amazingly insignificant to the grandeur of the home. Mu had certainly spent all of his pent-up money and went all-out when he bought the place. And they'd been living in it for the past seven or eight _years_.

_Gosh, it doesn't seem that long. . . ._ Murrue sighed, sipping a mug of steaming coffee.

The doorbell rang, breaking the silence. The same doorbell she'd heard numerous times in those past years. Wondering who it could possibly be, Murrue lazily drifted over to the front door and opened it. The person on the other side a surprise.

Kara.

"Oh, hey," Murrue greeted with a smile, thankful for a break from the silence. "Long time, no see, huh, Kara?"

"Yeah. Our kids see each other more than we do it seems," the dashing mother smiled, sharp green eyes dancing.

"Oh," Murrue straightened up, remembering her manners. "Please, Kara, come in."

"No, no, I'm fine. I'll only be a moment," Kara smiled in return, but her smile quickly lost its brightness and she began to regard Murrue with a soft pain mulling in her eyes. "I know this is sudden of me, just stopping by like this and saying I need a favor, but I don't know where else to go. . . ." Murrue stiffened at her friend's words.

"What's wrong?"

"Um, I met this guy—And I really, really like him!" Kara started, smile suddenly back and brighter than ever. She was easily overjoyed. Murrue was too. Kara had gone too long without somebody after Daniel's death.

"Kara, that's great," Murrue smiled, but somehow her arsenal for joy had been depleted. A weak feeling throbbed itself in her gut.

"Yeah, it is," Kara smiled back, blonde hair dashing in a light breeze. "But, see . . . tonight we were supposed to go out to dinner . . ."

"Oh, you need us to watch the kids?" Murrue cut in, sure that was the problem. Sorry to say it, Murrue couldn't count how many times she wand Mu had relied on Kara to watch the kids—they barely watched Tyler and Donnie.

But it wasn't. Kara just looked at Murrue, lost for the moment before understanding what Murrue had offered.

"What? No, it's fine. . . . I have a sitter." Now Murrue was confused.

"Then . . ."

"Well, we _were_ going to go to dinner," Kara started slowly trying hard to find the right words. "But it was supposed to be a double date sorta thing. . . ." But then Kara gained speed and nothing stopped her mouth, not even Murrue's obvious shudders of surprise. "Oh, he brings a friend, I bring a friend , you know? Well, I got a call and the friend I was supposed to bring cancelled out on me, and I was wondering if—"

"Kara, I'm married." Murrue couldn't stop that inch back inside.

"I—I know that," Kara whined. "But it's not like you're going to have to _date_ the guy or anything. Just show up. And you don't even have to talk to him if you don't want to. If he gets the vibe that says you're not interested, he'll leave you alone, right? Please, I can't show up _alone_. I really like this one." Murrue stared at her friend, the one with the long blonde and green eyes. She was on the verge of pleading. Murrue tried to shake the image from her thoughts.

"But . . . what about . . . Mu?" Murrue mumbled, trying to figure out a way to politely say no. There was no way. But Kara interpreted Murrue's curiosity towards the better and began beaming in delight.

"You're going?"

"No, I didn't say that," Murrue quickly cornered. ". . . I'm just _thinking_ about it."

"C'mon, _Murrue_." Kara had broken past pleading. She was starting to remind Murrue a bit of Mu when he became really immature.

Something was definitely wrong. "You never have to see the guy again, and I promise he wont even get a phone number for you so its not like he can call you or anything." Kara broke from her pleading, begging side for just one moment to over-play a wink towards Murrue. "—Unless you want him to, that is."

"I'm not having this conversation." Murrue couldn't believe what Kara was asking, proposing, _saying_. The strong woman backed away, further into her thankfully empty house.

"Aw, what's the point in not having a little fun?" Kara pouted.

Now she really started to act like Mu. _How come everybody I know is so inhumanly stubborn?_

"Here's the point, Kara," Murrue shot back. "I'm _married_ already for goodness's sake—and I'd _like_ to keep it that way."

"You worry too much, Murrue. It'll be _fine_. After tonight he'll forget about you, you'll forget about him. Nothing wrong could possibly happen. So, what do you say? You coming?"

Kara had grabbed Murrue's hand in pleading request and was holding it tight in her hands.

"I really like him," she whined again to prove a point.

Murrue let her shoulders drop utterly defeated. She couldn't believe what she was about to do. Murrue shook her head.

"What was that?" Kara asked, voice high with excitement and joy. Murrue's voice was quiet with un-believability.

". . . _Yes_ . . . I'll go. . . ."

"What? Really? You will?" Kara became ecstatic once she realized what Murrue had said. "This is great! Okay, so they're picking us up at my house at 7:30—Can you be ready by then?"

"Uh-huh," Murrue sighed, unable to do anything but.

"Thank you. Thank you, Murrue. Thank you, thank you." Kara was practically jumping with delight.

"Wait, Kara," Murrue had to ask. "What about . . ."

"Mu?" She cocked her head in wonder, knowing that Murrue'd ask about him. "Hmmm, tell him . . . oh, that we're having a girls night out, dinner and drinks. It'll be mostly true, so its not a lie."

Murrue quietly went over the alibi in her mind, brow furrowed in thought. If she was going to do this—and go out with some guy, it was better if Mu didn't know.

". . . And he wont mind being with the kids either . . ."

"See? Perfect." Kara smiled, finally turning away to walk off her step. "Now I have to go call him. See you at Seven-Thirty—and wear something nice!"

With that, Kara was gone, practically skipping away off to the sidewalk. Murrue leaned in the open doorway, palming her face as the weight of it all came crashing back.

"Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into now. . . ."

At that moment, Mu pulled up with the kids after an entire day of errands—food shopping, item shopping, dry cleaning, doctor's appointments and getting haircuts (for the kids—just a trim). When the car stopped before the house, Mu was the first to wrench himself out of the car. He helped undo Evi and Matt before all three of them ran for inside, Mu leading the pack. But, as Evi and Matt ran inside-inside, Mu stopped before Murrue with a grin.

"How'd it go today?" She asked, almost afraid of the answer. Mu looked as if he'd been through hell.

"Oh, I cant wait to spend more of my days off like this one," he sarcastically joked, landing a nice kiss to his wife's cheek. "I'll tell yah later, though." He covered, something else on his mind. "—What was Kara doing here?" Mu asked glancing back at the dashing blonde making her way down the street.

Murrue glanced over at the retreating Kara, the conversation from before running over in her mind.

". . . Oh, she just invited me out to dinner—you know, for a 'Girl's Night Out' of sorts," she muttered looking from her hands up to her husband's face. "And I said yes." But Mu didn't smile like she had so wanted him to—to assure that he knew nothing of what was to happen. He didn't smile, suddenly serious and stern.

"And _when's_ this?" He asked.

"Tonight." Murrue watched in confusion as his face fell before her eyes.

"You're _going . . . _?" She nodded.

"Aw, and here I was, hoping it could just be _us_ tonight," he pouted, playfully holding her closer. "The kids are bound to go to sleep early, what with such a long day." Murrue shook her head as he stared down at her, easily getting the message.

"I promise I'll come home as soon as I can, okay?" She sighed.

"Yeah, but it's never soon enough, though," he flashed his rogue grin, pulling her into an affectionate kiss.

"I love you, you know," he playfully reminded, lips once again locked.

Mu felt her falter in her response, felt her stop and go still in his arms for all of a moment. In the back of Mu's mind, he curiously wondered why. But then she held him closer and his curiosity didn't matter anymore.

But what he didn't realize was how the overshadowing pang of guilt had ripped just through Murrue's heart.

--------

"Okay, I'm going now," Murrue announced. Mu was the only one who heard her, though, the kids elsewhere. He pushed himself standing from his seat on the steps and began to walk towards her.

"Good," he grinned, partially and slightly lopsided, the annoyance brimming true in his eyes. "Oh, and by the way, Murrue, Matt's already asleep and Evi's gonna go pretty soon. They're more tired than I thought. It's been a long week."

Murrue smiled—she knew what he was trying to do as he came up beside her. "So now while you're off having fun with your gal pals, I'll be here. . . . Alone . . . So alone. . . ." The arms that had lazily wrapped themselves about her suddenly tightened, holding her closer to him. "So very much alone . . ." He softly whined, smile returning as he moved down to kiss her smiling lips.

"Mmmm, yep," she replied, pulling out of the lulling kiss, only to be caught once more.

"Be safe," he murmured quietly, kissing her lightly.

"I will," she whispered in sweet return.

"Have fun," he slurred, dragging a few more kisses lazily out of her.

"Of course," she sighed, leaning into him—against her thought's will. Suddenly Mu forced her away, just enough so he could look down into her eyes, as if scolding.

"And don't come home having drunk too much. I don't want to explain to our kids what a hangover is." Murrue hid her soft laugh, fingers sliding over her lips.

"I won't." He grinned, leaning in for another taste only to have her push him away.

"Mu, I have to go," Murrue reminded him forcefully, amber eyes glaring up at his dancing ones.

"I know," he sighed. "But just a few more . . ." Mu pressed his lips to hers again. She nudged him slightly and Mu pulled away, face tucked into a scowl, playing hurt. "Aw, does it have to be tonight? Tonight was supposed to be _our_ night." Murrue smiled at his drama, but she just pushed up to kiss him sweetly in return.

"I called Kara to see if it could be changed," Murrue lied through her teeth, lips still being taken. "It can't. Restaurant's hard to get reservations for, we cant just break 'em. But I promise I'll be home soon as I can."

"Hmph," Mu backed away. "Which restaurant?"

"Stariglo's. The one a bit ways from here." Mu's entire face brightened, blue eyes dancing in playful awe.

"Hey, we went there a while back, remember? We'll have to go again sometime!—I could probably weedle out a table for us even with a full house. Remember, that friend of mine owns the place? Tonight, all you have to do is mention you're my wife and I bet that could get you some free drinks," Mu grinned, glad his connections could help.

"I'll think about it," Murrue smiled in thanks, but her mind was screaming: 'Yeah, I'll just mention I'm your wife right in front of some other guy I'm on a date with.'

Murrue's amber eyes darted towards the clock. "Oh, now, I really have to go."

She rushed off towards the door, far enough from his arms to not kiss him one last time. But as she made her way out the door, Mu's voice, soft and caring wafted towards her.

"Love you."

"—You too!" She hurried back as the door closed simply behind her.

--------

Without waiting, Murrue picked up the bag she had been lucky enough to put on the step before Mu saw it—it was the dress she was going to wear that night. She had to get to Kara's to change.

Murrue scampered across the road and down the street before making it to the door of her friend.

Glancing back down at the bagged dress, Murrue ran over the reason of why she was bringing it in her head. Kara may have been a friend—and a great neighbor, but Murrue wasn't quite sure about this next jump.

After finally calming down her breathing, Murrue knocked on the door, awkwardly pulling some hair back to behind her ear. The door opened and Kara took even Murrue's breath away when she answered the door in a long green dress that beautifully accentuated her sharp eyes.

"Ah, Murrue, you made it!" She smiled, part in excitement, another part in thanks. Kara's eyes drifted down Murrue's plainly clothed body before her eyes landed on the bag, knowing what had to be inside, her green eyes flashed. "Ooh, let me see, _please_."

Murrue sighed and stepped inside. As the door closed behind her, Murruereached down to pull out the long black dress she had brought. It was stunning—beautiful and perfect for a formal party, except . . .

Tonight wasn't a formal party.

Kara took one glance at the dress and her face scrunched up. "Ugh, too safe," she murmured.

"What do you mean 'too safe'?" Murrue asked holding up the long dress. "It's elegant."

"But not flirty," Kara corrected, easing the black from her hands. "I mean, that's why I bought you this." She shoved a box into Murrue's arms, bulging with something. "Oh, and don't bother thanking me, I'll do anything for a friend," Kara grinned, pleased at how well she'd assessed the situation earlier. She was prepared.

With a sigh, Murrue opened the box to find an entire outfit inside, from the coat to the shoes. Murrue held up the main dress.

Red and . . . flirty.—No, more than 'flirty'. Bordering on sultry. Not the sort of thing to wear on a simple date.

"Are you _trying_ to make me have a divorce?" Murrue asked, incredulous, glancing between the dress and Kara.

"Just wear it, Murrue," she sighed, exasperated. "You can wear it again for Mu.—I know he'd like it too."

Kara's green eyes flashed as she winked at her friend, slipping away.

Murrue just blushed, heat rising, thoughts running amok as she held the soft red fabric.

--------

Murrue stood in the mirror, wearing everything Kara had laid out for her—if only for kicks. She certainly wasn't going to wear _this_ to dinner. No matter what Kara said, Murrue was going to wear the longblack dress she'd brought.

But the red ensemble Murrue was wearing . . . She couldn't hold back a bite of her lip as she looked over herself in the reflective glass.

Kara certainly put some serious planning into her dress/outfit choice. The simple dress seemed to accentuate Murrue's curves eloquently, the red of the fabric bringing out the richness of her hair and the brightness of her eyes. It certainly was flirty, though, and Murrue was a bit concerned about how short it was, but Murrue hoped it could be hidden by the long black jacket that Kara'd also laid out. Murrue's legs were draped with sheer black stockings and red boots came up to mid calf.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Murrue felt she looked ten years younger—and _not_ married.

Absolutely sure this was not what she was going to wear, Murrue went to start taking it all off, but Kara called her over before she could start.

"Murrue, I have another sight favor to ask of you," Kara started to quietly whine, looking at Murrue behind her through the vanity mirror. Murrue's shoulders sagged.

"What is it, Kara?" Murrue asked, voice flat and expressionless. "I think you and I both know that this favor I'm already doing will last a lifetime."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks so much, Murrue. You're such a good friend." Kara was obviously overdoing it. Murrue couldn't hold back breaking into a smile, and starting to softly laugh.

"Flattery will get you no where, Kara," Murrue warned.

"Yes, but, I was wondering if you could put my hair up. Whenever you seem to do it, it always looks beautiful."

"I just said flattery would get you nowhere," Murrue huffed even while reaching down for Kara's brush. "But I'll do it, just remember that now you owe me forever _and_ a day."

"Okay," Kara laughed.

The two worked in silence, Kara putting on some touches of make-up, Murrue pinning up Kara's long blonde hair.

Murrue's mind was spinning so much, her thought were scattered everywhere, and a bit of Mu had rubbed off on her and the silence quickly attacked her.

"So . . . This boyfriend of yours . . ." Murrue brought up. "What's he like?"

"His name is Michael. Yours is Trevor, by the way."

Murrue twisted her face at the name.—It didn't exactly roll off the tongue for her. That didn't bode well for 'Trevor' or Murrue. Her mind was already making up scenarios for the evening, each one increasingly worse than the last. But names were just names. Murrue couldn't let _that_ decide the evening for her. It could even be fun.

_W-What am I thinking! Of course thingswill notbe "**fun**"! I'm **married**!_

Murrue shook at her head in a futile attempt to shake the creeping thoughts from her mind. Glancing in the mirror before her, Murrue noticed how flushed her face was, how messy her hair had become. She quickly looked over to Kara, to see if she noticed, but Murrue was in luck—Kara had been too wrapped up in her swooning monologue to pay any attention.

". . .—t's time to move on, you know? And he's so good with the kids—Tyler and Donnie seem to really like him. Whenever he comes over to play with them, afterwards the two of them are all praise. Which is good. I'm glad—its like they have a father again."

Murrue finished with Kara's hair, the blonde beauty thanking her before moving out of the seat to walk about the room, all the while still speaking of Michael.

Murrue sighed—she was beginning to slightly regret asking about him.

"Michael's great. I don't think I could be with a man my children didn't like. I mean, if they couldn't live with him, what would be the point of continuing a relationship you knew would get nowhere? But Michael's different. They like him and he loves them and that's why I—" Kara suddenly came to a standstill, mind placing the pieces together. Her deep green eyes threatened to tear at the thought. Tears of joy.

"Oh my God. . . . I . . . I love him. . . ."

Murrue gazed upon her friend, frozen against the wall in blushing realization, and she smiled. It always seems to hit you hard when you first realize that you truly love someone. Especially after a previous heart break.

Murrue knew all too well.

The two friends talked with each other as they made their way from the bedroom intent on having a drink of their own before leaving. The hall leading to the kitchen had a mirror. Kara stopped to glance over herself—appraising. She bit her lip.

Murrue watched, confused, as her friend went to the closet to grab her jacket. Slipping on the green coat, Kara looked over herself again. Murrue couldn't help smiling. Kara, surprisingly, wasn't one too concerned about looks—at least this much.

_Michael must really be some special guy. . . ._

"There," Kara sighed. ". . . Murrue, do you think I at least don't look awful?" Murrue looked up and looked Kara over. She wasn't the woman to go fishing for compliments—she honestly thought she never looked right. Murrue sighed, exasperation hidden in her voice.

"You could never 'look awful', Kara." Murrue smiled. Kara smiling back.

"And neither could you, Murrue," she assured. "Oh, I still need my earrings," Kara muttered in surprise, easily noticing how empty her ears were. "I'll get them."

She was about to walk off when then the doorbell rang. Its chime ran the house to announce their arrival—the chime ran through Murrue shaking her with fear and anticipation.

Kara grinned.

"Ah! Those are them.—Ah! One moment!" She called.

Without any more words, Kara started running in the opposite direction towards her bedroom to fetch her earrings. Murrue tried to stop her, but then, Murrue noticed what adorned her.

Her outfit . . . Her red outfit. Color both drained from her face and rushed to it. She had completely forgotten to change.

And they were here—there was no time.

The door bell rang once more and Murrue was surprised to hear Kara curse aloud.

"Murrue, could you get it? I'm a little tied up at the moment!" Murrue felt her shoulders sag at the thought. Beyond that front door lie a night she knew she'd come to regret. But, to her dismay excitement also bubbled up through her, twisting her insides.

Another bell. Murrue's body hurried to open the door though her mind kept screaming against it.

"See?" Somebody laughed at the white door was pulled back. "Third time's the charm."

Murrue held in surprise. She didn't know what to expect, but she didn't expect this. Two men stood in the doorway, both sensibly dressed to impress. One stood shorter than the other—but not by much—the one with the red hair. The one completely in black from his hair to heels stared down at Murrue and suddenly she felt very small—being sized up against the two men.

"Michael!" Kara called running out from the bedroom, Murrue surprised to see the long blonde hair lolling about Kara's shoulders. Murrue'd spent half an hour putting it up. "Michael—you're early."

Murrue would have expected Kara to run to the taller of the two men, the raven, but instead, she was welcomed into the red's arms. Murrue stood stunned, watching them kiss their hello. Kara changed in an instant.

The raven man glanced over to his red companion and received the answer he was looking for. Without another second wasted, he bowed low before Murrue, lightly taking her hand in his.

"Ah, you must be Murrue," he grinned, smug as could be, dark eyes flashing. Then, he kissed her.

Her hand.

When his soft lips touched her skin, Murrue couldn't hold back the heat emanating from his touch. The heat traveled to her face, pinking her cheeks in surprise. The raven straightened up, eyes never leaving her amber ones, hand never leaving hers.

Trevor's voice was thick and husky, but with the strongest air of arrogant laughter mixed deep. "When Mike here told me to come along, I never imagined you could be so beautiful."

And then he kissed her hand again.

--------

Back in the house, Mu was sprawled out on the sofa, trying desperately hard to bask in the silence. Both the kids were asleep—he was right in predicting Evi's early turn in—but now there was nothing to do.

He wasn't used to the quiet.

Mu tried to read, but his mind wandered. Mu tried to doze off on the couch but couldn't get comfortable. Mu tried to watch something on the TV, but nothing caught his interest.

"Murrue," he whined to himself. "Come home soon, I'm bored!" He faced a chuckle just imagining her reaction if she saw him right then. Impatient and whiney.

'_You're such a child, Mu! Grow up. Act your age, not your shoe-size!'_

_Actually she wouldn't say that last part_, Mu grinned. He'd been waiting to use it on her, to turn the tables he ever caught her acting like a child.

_But . . . _, he sighed. That wouldn't be happening in a while.

Mu groaned again, pushing himself from off the couch. His stomach grumbled in hunger, and, with nothing else to do, Mu decided he'd cook something—that would pass time.

As Mu situated himself in the kitchen around the counter, the open door of their bedroom caught his eye. Murrue had left it open—no surprise. But what was the surprise was that she left the closet door open as well. She never did that.

Mu, curious and thrilled to have found something to focus on made his way into their bedroom and over to the open closet. It seemed so odd.

The late setting sun streamed faintly through the window, dusk overcoming everything casting a pale glow upon everything its faint light touched. Out of the corner of Mu's eye, his focus caught on something glinting in the light. He turned to have a better look at it, but he turned to see Murrue's vanity, mirror taking some of the day's last glow.

"Oh, that's what I saw," Mu mumbled looking at it—the simplicity of it hurting him. But then he shifted and the glint came again—it wasn't from the vanity itself, but was resting on the vanity.

Unable to believe his eyes, Mu reached down to pick it up—what kept refracting the light. Mu gazed into his hand where he held them.

Two silver rings, one wrapped about a diamond. Mu knew those rings—he'd spent months trying to find one that would suit her. They were Murrue's.

Murrue's wedding rings.

Mu's tanned face drained of all color, his blue eyes freezing into ice. Murrue would never take her rings off—especially if she left the house. Things always had a habit of being lost in such a vast house—she didn't want to risk it. But here they were, resting open on the vanity's top.

Mu felt his chest constrict staring at the two rings. Piece by piece his mind struggled to put it all together, filling in some of the gaps with ideas of his own. Everything odd about that day, everything bugging him as out-of-place for that week . . . It made sense.

Suddenly he understood. Everything.

Mu bolted out the bedroom door, fear and fire rising in him at the thought.

* * *

So that's how Part One of this two-part short story's turned out so far. Hope it's to your . . . enjoyment. . . . 

If you caught it, "Trevor" came from Trevor Devall—The English Voice Actor for Mu LaFlaga. But . . . Since Trevor Devall _also_ has blond hair and blue eyes, I couldn't very well make "Trevor" and Trevor Devall look the same as well. So that's where the dark 'raven' man came from in some aspects.

(Oh, and many thanks to irishdragon for some name-help on this one.)


	7. Loves Me, Loves Me Not PART 2

**VII. Loves Me, Loves Me Not**

**Part Two**

Trevor kissed her hand again, lips coursing fire up through Murrue's arm. She was stunned, surprised by this stranger's actions so much she didn't even try to pull away.

Trevor paused in the silence. He'd expected something from the girl he was to woo that night—a gasp, smack or a giggle, just something. But this one neither said nor did anything. He glanced up, dark eyes catching Murrue's wide amber.

He was drawn into their swirling color immediately.

He straightened up and held out his arm to Murrue. She stared at it for a moment before getting the message of 'escorting' and she tentatively touched at his arm. Trevor noticed the way she kept the distance between them as he gentlemanly led his new-found date to the car Michael had for them. Mike and Kara in the front, Trevor and Murrue in the back. Simple, but scaring to Murrue, still stunned by everything Trevor was doing to capture her favor. He was certainly capturing her attention. When they neared the car, he had the door opened gracefully for her, then he helped ease her inside the car by way of another hand holding—which he kissed yet again.

As he sat down himself down beside her, Murrue couldn't help the slight flinch as part of his sleeve brushed against her thigh.

Trevor stared at her in curious amusement. She seemed so innocent, acting so awkward around him and his simple advances—yet he knew she was powerful by the way her eyes almost glared back at him if they ever did catch glances, the power taking away each of his breaths with each breath he took. She lightly pushed back some thick auburn hair from her face before coupling her hands back in her lap.

It amused him. With a smug grin, Trevor leaned closer to Murrue and his fingers faintly found her hair.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered to her ear, him close enough she could feel his breath against her. "I don't bite."

Murrue felt like slapping him—she wasn't sure where the urge came from, but her hands clenched as she resisted. She had no premise for slapping him—he had to do something more . . . _harassing_ first.

"I love this restaurant," he brought up in that deep voice of his, grinning. "You've been there before?" Murrue suffered a nod.

"Yes. Once."

"Well, they've done up the place a bit," he grinned. "It should be very beautiful."

"Really," Murrue sighed quietly, glancing out the window. She was working on "not being interested"—intent to scare this Trevor off before the night went on for too long.

Mu was waiting for her at home after all. Just the simple thought of that brought a warmth to her core, and a smile to her lips. Him and the kids—or maybe just him.

Then Trevor interrupted her wild thoughts, fingers brushing against her cheek. Startling her, making her jump.

But his touchwas thin but warm, contrasting with Mu's usually thick and calloused fingertips. Trevor lightly pushed some more hair to behind Murrue's ears.

"You look better this way," he grinned, smug. "—Which is surprising. I thought you couldn't become any more radiant than you already were."

Murrue knew it was just a play—a sweet line that really meant nothing, but even so, she couldn't stop the faint pink creeping its way to her cheeks—though it was nowhere near noticeable.

Then Trevor grabbed her hand, kissing it again. Murrue didn't pull away, just stared back.

Something stirred within her at the sight of this man in black with the dark eyes sitting beside her, her hand wrapped in his. If she counted how many advances he'd taken just since they met . . . Even _Mu_ wasn't so obviously persistent. But Mu . . . he started truly acting that way after all the 'falling in love' was done. _This_ man had to start from scratch. It had been years since Murrue had had a man work so hard for her.—Besides Mu.

But Mu was different. He didn't count. Not in this register at least.

"Ah, we're here," Trevor grinned, breaking Murrue from her thoughts as he pointed at the lit up restaurant they were approaching.

The car stopped, the date _officially_ beginning.

Trevor stepped up his game a bit, knowing from the car ride over that Murrue was one he'd have to really try with.

As he helped her from the car, Murrue wasn't surprised when Trevor placed another light kiss, but this time to her palm. But what surprised her was how she was _expecting_ it and how it actually felt . . . good.

Murrue guiltily squirmed as they stepped inside.

---

Murrue looked around the place. Romantic in every sense of the word. She remembered Mu taking her here once. It was before they were married. They sat at that small table by the dance floor and he forced her to dance. And they ran out without paying the bill.

Ah, the memories.

Murrue glanced at the handsome man across from her.—He wasn't Mu, nor was he anything like Mu.

Murrue let her mind drift pack to the past. That night, they had talked the entire dinner through, but Mu had been so reserved, she knew he wasn't telling her something. And now, tonight, the two people at the table were having conversation through dinner, but Murrue was the one reserved.

And Trevor easily noticed. He shook his head in understanding, and let his eyes drift over Murrue's fair face. He studied her, especially her eyes—They were beautiful, the color so rich and alien, he decided that by the night was through he'd have thought up a name for the color of her eyes.

He sighed. He may have been satisfied in just looking at her, but . . .

"You really don't want to be here, do you?" He smiled, grin lopsided and knowing. Murrue, though, was shocked from her reverie, the hidden emotion in her eyes suddenly replaced by surprise.

"No!" She tried to assure him. "No, I _do_, it's—" Trevor sighed again.

"You don't have to pretend, Murrue. I understand." Then he grinned, a large smug grin. "_So_, what's his name?"

"What?" Murrue, still not over the shock from before just stared blankly ahead at Trevor, completely blown away by all the sudden questions—each hitting their mark.

But Trevor looked like he was having fun, artfully overplaying a sigh.

"Your _boyfriend_. What's his name?"

"No, I don't—I . . . I . . ." Murrue froze.

Her entire world stopped, even Trevor across from her stopped.All that there was, was her slowly beating heart.

She had . . . She'd almost denied even _him_. She—she was caught up in the moment, but to act as if he . . .

Murrue took a swallow, calming herself down. How could she ever do that when even the _thought_ of him brought a warm smile to her lips?

". . . Mu. His name's Mu."

She couldn't lie, not about _that_. Trevor blinked back surprise. He hadn't really expected an answer. But there was something even more unexpected. Murrue, for some reason, suddenly looked amazingly more beautiful.

Suspicions raised, Trevor started again, gaining momentum with each moment.

"Hmmm, 'Mu' . . . Is he handsome?"

"Excuse me?" Murrue gaped at the man sitting across from her. She only faintly heard what came from his mouth. Trevor leaned forward, dark eyes matching hers. He looked up, studied her, smiled.

". . . Is 'Mu' handsome?" He asked again, face and voice both teasingly smug. But even so, Murrue couldn't resist the way her eyes fell away, heat rising to her face, pinking her cheeks all the more.

Trevor grinned, eyes flashing. Her sudden silence, the obvious reaction. . . . It only meant one thing.

"You love him?"

Murrue heard him that time, the first time. At his most forward question, her face reddened so much in response. To Murrue, it felt as though everybody in the room had heard his question, was waiting on her answer. But again, she didn't have to answer. Trevor understood.

"He's lucky," Trevor murmured. But, his voice had lost its smugness, and when Murrue looked up, Trevor's dark, deep eyes held a sudden shallowness she hadn't seen before. He coldly looked away from her—to gaze upon the table beside, where Kara and Michael were having their own date.

Murrue's face was still amazingly red, and she couldn't believe how completely bashful she was. When had she become so amazingly soft? But, as answers weaved their way through her, Murrue found that strength she hadn't forgotten.

"Why are you asking me these questions?" She inquired quietly, feeling the red of her subsiding as Trevor turned her way again. "What about you?"

He looked at her for a moment, then his eyes glanced at his watch. Trevor went on as if she'd said nothing.

"We cant necessarily leave until _they_ do," he brought up, motioning over towards their friends. He gave a slight shrug. "And they wont be leaving for a while yet. This obviously isn't a date anymore, so what's left to do but talk?"

"Shouldn't you be telling me something about yourself?" Murure pushed, staring at him from across the table. But Trevor didn't react at all to her hot gaze and only shrugged again, fixing his coat.

"Why? There's nothing for _me_ to tell.—But, _you've_ got a boyfriend, and that's something to talk about."

Murrue's eyebrows couldn't stop an arch. She understood this man's game. Her eyes narrowed in return.

"Meaning if I ask you a question, you'll ignore it, but if I tell you about my . . . Mu, you'd be all ears?" When Trevor cracked a grin back at her, Murrue wanted to hit herself. Murrue had almost said 'boyfriend'. Trevor's smug speech was starting to rub off on her. But he just kept on grinning.

"That's about right. But I don't need _you_ to tell me some things. . . ." He softened, dark eyes weaving gracefully over her form as he told her.

"—like the way you're blushing right now, or that light that sparkles in your eyes whenever you say his name. How even _now_, he's the only one you're thinking about—how it's so obvious. But you're not one toreadily wear your heart on your sleeve either. Who could make you like that? _Him_. And that's who I want to hear about. Okay? Your wonderful boyfriend Mu."

Murrue just stared at him, Trevor, staring back and waiting for her to start. There was no way she'd get out of the situation quick enough. So, looking back at him, Trevor with his dark eyes and flipped back black hair, faint tan and smug smile . . . Murrue started to laugh. Giggle rather.

"Um, well, for starters, he isn't my _boyfriend_. . . ."

---

He couldn't hear them, but he could see them. He could see every flick of _that_ _man's_ eyes as they looked her over. He could see every turn of her lips as she spoke to _him_. From where Mu was standing, hiding—he had a perfect view of the pair.

It wasn't hard to track Murrue down, Mu relayed to himself silently as he watched them. He knew the restaurant. All he had to do was find a table where he could see them but not the other way around.

Mu didn't know what he was expecting when he arrived, part of him didn't want to imagine. But when he saw her sitting down with _that_ _man_—they just seemed so familiar with each other, having dinner, talking . . .

Mu easily felt the fire start raging inside him. But he couldn't act rashly—war taught him that. As much as he so wanted to, strutting over to give that guy a nice punch in the face wouldn't do. There was alwaysthe possibility of misunderstanding—though Mu's heart didn't honestly believe it.

So Mu watched. Mu watched everything.

But Mu still couldn't hear them.

_That_ _man_ leaned forward on the table to look up into Murrue's eyes, he said something and Murrue blushed. She blushed so easily. _That_ _man_ said something else, dark eyes flashing and Murrue turned an even deeper shade of red.

Mu couldn't hear them, but he could see. Mu knew every simple habit of Murrue's—the way she idly tucked hair behind her ear when awkward, the way her fingers curled around her lips when she softly giggled. So when after more talking he saw her hand come to her face in **_that_** way, Mu knew what was happening.

Not that many people could make Murrue laugh like that. Especially in public. Mu prided himself in being one of the few who could. But _that_ _man_ . . . She was laughing—giggling before him, **_because_** of him.

The fire grew hotter, quickly raging bigger.

Then her lips moved, but she must have been quiet—_that_ _man_ moved closer as if to hear her. Murrue said it again and that time her words caught _that_ _man's_ ear and, in an instant, _that_ _man_ was back in his chair, slight pink to his own cheeks.

"What? **_Really_**!" He said. Mu didn't need to watch _that_ _man's_ lips to know what was said. _That_ _man_ was loud enough to hear. But then Mu watched Murrue quickly trying to quiet him, face redder than before.

With that Mu pushed himself up from the table, head low in quiet thought. And then . . .

He began to walk away. Silent and reserved.

He couldn't take watching them anymore. It was starting to sicken him: what he saw and how he saw it.

He couldn't watch them anymore.

--------

Dinner went on, Murrue and Trevor having an amazingly good time. She shared stories of Mu and he shared, on occasion, some jokes of past girls he'd dated. He had been right—it wasn't a date after all that, just a dinner with a new found friend.

And Murrue was impressed. Ever since Trevor found out she was actually _married_, he'd kept his physical distance, trying hard to not even brush hands with her in respect.—Or maybe just in fear. Even through his condescending attitude, Murrue could find a man hesitant about making the wrong 'impression'.

But still, Trevor found ways of opening up those doors within her Murrue usually took the greatest care in sealing shut. The first to enter besides Mu in a _very_ long time.

Through dinner, Murrue found herself idly wondering how even with the obvious differences, whether Trevor reminded her of Mu, or if Mu was the one who reminded her of Trevor. It was a complex idea her mind teetered on in-between sips of the wine Trevor had bought and the occasional rubs at her empty ring finger.

Murrue was getting increasingly used to the empty feel.

"Well—You two done talking or should we be staying the night here?"

"Mike, I should be asking you that," Trevor snapped back at his redhead friend with a laugh as he pushed himself from the small table. Michael just waved away the quip before making his way to the front with Kara.

Before Murrue could stand herself up, Trevor was beside her, pulling out her chair and extending his hand to hers. Murrue took it, still as hesitant as before, but that too, she was getting used to.

Guided up to her feet, she was escorted to the door holding lightly on Trevor's arm. When the door opened and a cool blast of icy wind shot inside, Murrue paused in the doorway to further button up the black jacket she'd worn all through dinner. She could never feel so comfortable in public wearing just the dress Kara'd bought for her. She could never wear it unless she was with . . .

"Trevor."

"Hm?" Murrue blinked.

"How do you like him?" Kara had popped up beside her friend, green eyes sparkling.

"He's nice, but . . ."

"Did something go wrong?" Kara quieted, moving closer as the pair waited for the men to pay. Murrue would have offered to help with the check if not for Kara's . . . "Whenever I looked over, you two looked so nice together. If I didn't know better, I'd say you two were in l—"

"Never."

Kara swallowed her words at the quick almost harsh answer Murrue gave without hesitation. "I could never. It's just as you said, 'him and I' ends tonight the moment you drop me off home. I'll never see him again and this night will fade with memories. That's the sole reason I agreed to come. The assurance that it would all be forgotten."

"You know, sometimes things should be remembered," Kara muttered, truth to her softly whispered words.

"Not this." Murrue paused, glancing over her pale hands. She could still feel Trevor's soft kiss that warmed up her hand when they met—the tingle seemed to return with her recollection, the odd sensation. How she both wanted to feel that once more but forget it all as well. Murrue held off an inward shiver, but then her hand was grabbed by _him_—the problem, how warm her hand felt against his.

It scared Murrue.

"C'mon. Time to go." Trevor smiled, smiling with the smugness Murrue now knew him for. The pair finally escaped the beautiful restaurant, followed closely behind by Michael and Kara.

Murrue shivered.

"You okay?" Trevor asked, moving closer. Murrue tried not to notice.

"Fine." She started to walk ahead to try to catch up with the leaving Michael and Kara, but as she stepped out into the road, a dark car quickly pulled up right before them. Its speed was such, Trevor shouted out:

"Hey!" And then he pulled Murrue closer—as if to save her from the large car that almost hit her. But Murrue knew exactly how close the car was, and it no where _near_ required Trevor's help.

Her hand enclosed over the arm wrapped about her waist, amber eyes flaming in warning.

"_Hey_ . . ." she threatened darkly, Trevor instantly letting go and taking steps back from Murrue, hands up in surrender.

Too close.

But that car that had pulled up . . . Nothing was happening. It neither moved forward or back, engine cut off it just sat there. Murrue just half realized the familiarity of the car, but in the dark and in the moment, where she's seen the car before didn't matter.

When the door of the car opened, and everybody's eyes fixed themselves on that one place. Time seemed to stand still as they waited in curious anger, Trevor furious, Murrue just startled.

But when a head of golden locks popped up, blue eyes flashing, Murrue felt her world drop.

"Need a ride?" Mu grinned.

Leaned against the hood of the car, Mu stared at the dressed-up pair with a waiting face. He was like he always was, casual to a fault and filled with good-cheer, but he seemed more cheerful than usual, jovial mood brimming over in his eyes, spilling over into the world around him.

The moment Murrue could, she found her lost breath.

"M-Mu!" Fear ripped through her eyes, the sweet amber frozen. The dark man beside her took a step back, black eyes dashing over the blond newcomer.

"_That's_ Mu?"Trevor murmured beneath his breath, dark eyes wide. "_Him_?—That's some competition. . . ."

Murrue had long since stepped away from Trevor, and quickly made her way over to Mu, who, with a laugh and smile to rival joy itself, had moved before the car, coming closer.

The faint breeze of the cool night caught with the tails of the long coat Kara had set out, Murrue suddenly grateful she'd buttoned the covering up before stepping outside. She tucked some of her hair back, voice still faint, face still pale.

"Mu, what are you doing here?"

"What?" His eyes widened in an incredulous chuckle. "Why, I came to pick you up, Silly," he laughed—a full jovial laugh.

"But . . . why . . . ?"

"I'm betting on the fact that _their_ date isn't over yet," Mu said, voice coming from deep in his throat, eyes twinkling as they looked at her. He motioned to Kara and Michael talking a ways off, heading towards some black car off to the side.

"So . . . What do you say?" Mu played, leaning over to open his car's passenger door, holding it open—obviously for her.

As he grinned down at her, door open, Murrue felt another emotion sliding into her right beside her fear and confusion—stunning familiarity. Mu standing there, waiting, doting . . . It was the same as when she met Trevor—_Trevor_ did the same thing.

Without even daring a glance back at her date, Murrue smiled a thank you before sliding into the car's laid open seat. It was where she belonged, after all. Mu smiled at her action, but once he closed the door for her, his attention caught another's.

That handsome man, dressed suavely head to toe in black—That pleasurable man with the dark shadowed eyes—That man who sat opposite Murrue at dinner . . .

Back turned to Murrue, Mu moved forward, hand extended towards _that_ _man_ in a surprising welcoming.

"Name's Mu LaFlaga. You're . . . _Trevor_, right?" Mu was lucky enough to have had heard the man's name, and the look on "Trevor's" face when Mu said that man's name was all too memorable to not easily forget.

The usually smug man with a grin of his own was completely and visibly lost as he gaped at Mu's extended hand.

A figure of _friendship_.

"Y-Yes," Trevor stammered returning the gesture. But once his hand was encased in Mu's thick grip, there was no letting go. Mu was grinning, his voice as laughing as always. To anyone else, it would seem the two were shaking hands over a business deal of sorts.

Murrue watched the men's interaction, bated fear held back. All she could see of Mu was his back, but she had a full view of Trevor's cautious face. She could hear—but only a bit—and she hung onto every syllable like her life depended on it.

It probably did.

"So how was dinner?" Mu ventured, voice bright with smiles, hand still gripping Trevor's.

Trevor faltered in his answer. His dark eyes traveled over Mu once more, taking in everything—but the most he took in was of that man's crystal blue eyes. Of what Murrue had told him about Mu, Trevor was only a _bit_ unnerved by the man's laughing, casual manner. It must have been the 'usual' demeanor. But what Trevor knew was _not_ 'usual' about Mu was what kept his dark attention.

Those eyes. . . .

The odd cold, frozen stone of Mu's eyes chilled Trevor down to the man's core. Even when Mu was smiling, laughing even, his eyes stayed the same, threatening, devouring.

Trevor took a moment to think over his answer. Mu's question of "how was dinner" wasn't as innocent as it seemed. The blackly dressed man knew that much. But at that moment, being sized up beneath those eyes, Trevor rethought what to say. Should he say 'fine'? Would that be a lie? Or should he say what was _really_ on his mind the entire time?

He decided on a cautious step forward in the conversation, voice struggling for the same easiness the other was showing. Trevor failed.

". . . I spent the entire time thinking," he muttered, quiet, shaky.

Silence.

". . . about how lucky you are."

"_Me_?" Mu seemed surprised. His grip on Trevor's hand faltered, eyes widening. But those eyes—they were still motionless, icy and cold.—But his tone was friendly and nothing near intimidating. . . .

Trevor hid off a shiver.

"Yeah.—To have _her_ as your wife—She's something special." Those eyes hesitated, flickered in gripping silence. Mu stood unmoved, face itself unchanged. Trevor shuddered beneath the stare, but after another breath, strength returned to the dark man's voice as he tried his most . . . incriminating comment.

"You're quite the competition, you know."

"Really?" Mu was definitely surprised there. His jovial voice broke for a moment, hand slipping from the other's, ice crystal eyes staggering. At the first moment of freedom, Trevor pulled back his hand, sticking it safely in his pocket.

Mu followed Trevor's example. Casual but a bit ruffled, Mu's tight grip on his actions was loosening. The man in black easily noticed and couldn't hold back that characterizing smug chuckle—that condescending smile.

"You don't have to worry about me. . . . Mu," Trevor coolly replied, gaining his personal strength back as his adversary lost it. But those dark, black eyes held a flicker. "I know I came too late for the race." Mu took it as a flash of 'forlorn'.

Silence gripped the pair, eyes never leaving the other as the two stood opposite each other. Murrue kept up in the car, Kara and Michael elsewhere . . . It was just those two, standing alone. The each regained their cold strength and chills ran rampant through the surrounding airs.

Mu glanced back at the car, Murrue ever intently watching them.—He smiled.

"There's room for one more, you know," he muttered quietly before glancing back up at Trevor. "We could give you a ride . . . ?"

Trevor froze. He thought he'd regained himself, was strong enough to stand across this man who'd already long stolen her heart, this great _competition_. But, Trevor was quickly realizing other thoughts. This _man_, this casual blond—How could he be so . . . ?

"No thanks," Trevor muttered in return, smile weak. "I live near-by anyway. I think I can walk."

At his answer Mu just shrugged. "Okay. Your choice." With another turn of his shoulders, Mu made to walk away. But then Trevor's deep voice stopped him in his tracks.

". . . But, she's just as lucky, you know. I'm realizing that too. She's lucky—To have you for a husband. . . ."

Mu couldn't hide the way he'd suddenly drawn breath, a constricitng gasp.

And Trevor believed that—though part of him didn't want to _except_ it. Though, no matter how he wanted to be, Trevor knew he'd never be able to offer a gesture like _that_—'a ride home'—a _kind_ _favor_—to somebody he held absolute contempt for.

Though Mu was all grins and laughter, in those unwavering cold eyes, Trevor saw that contempt.

Mu's hate toward him—skillfully hidden to all but him.

"See yah later, Trevor," Mu grinned, a flick wave of his hand as agreed recognition as he stepped into the car with Murrue.

That car started up, Trevor left to watch its headlight disappear into the darkness.

Alone.

--------

Murrue watched silently. Something had changed between the two—Trevor's face that she could see . . . it had lost its utter arrogance. Mu stepped away, turned towards the car, but gaze towards the pavement. Then he froze.

Then something happened and Murrue could make out the soft smile flickering across her husband's face as he continued his walk away.

Mu stepped into the car, smiled, then turned the machine on and soon they were off. But nothing was said. Mu kept his eyes to the road, both hands clenched tightly to the wheel. And the two drove off—silence spilling out of the two in the car.

Murrue curled in on herself. She wanted to say something—anything, but she was at a complete loss for words. The problem wasn't her silence, but _his_. She knew Mu hated absolute silence, especially silence so awkward.

But here he was, he giving silent treatment _. . . He must really be angry. . . ._ Murrue felt like curling up into a ball, to wither away unnoticed, never to be seen by him again. She didn't know if she could take it if Mu did anything to remind her of _that_ man—Trevor. Neither men knew how twisted her heart was. Murrue's body screamed out in awkward heat as she sat there, them driving silently in the dark.

The car slowed but Murrue knew they weren't near home at all.

Without a word, Mu took advantage of the car's slowness to reach down and dig deep into his pocket. Somehow he could do so with such smooth motions, not making a sound. Murrue watched intently as Mu pulled something out, clutched in his palm. His eyes were focused cleanly on the road.

"You still want these?"

As he held out his open hand, Mu's voice was quiet and familiar but flat. His lack of emotion chilled Murrue in her heated body's seat, shivers of the worst kind running through her.

But what he held out before her eyes chilled ever more. Her _rings_! She'd taken them off to keep up appearances and she put them . . .

Murrue felt her heart slow—She couldn't remember. . . . And then _he_ found them.

Mu wouldn't even look at her. His eyes kept to road, hand still held out, rings still displayed in his palm. And the silence stayed as Murrue felt the urge to do more than just disappear. Though he wouldn't look at her, Murrue felt as if Mu was staring straight at her.

She'd taken off her rings as a sensible idea. To go on a 'date' and wear wedding rings would be absurd. So she took them off. But, oh, how she regretted it. Both in the silent car and in the restaurant. She'd found herself several times running her fingers over her bare ring finger—the emptiness awkward and scaring her.

Murrue reached forward, unaware of how her hands trembled as she fumbled for the rings.

"Yes. . . . Thank you."

It was silent in the car, Mu placing both hands back on the wheel.

Against all sense, Murrue did something amazingly stupid. She leaned closer into Mu. She had the urge to just kiss him, right there in the car, but it was too far of a stretch. Instead she leaned in onto his arm. She could easily feel his pulsing warmth through his shirt. It felt good against her.

"Mu?" She brought up quietly. Murrue was ready to talk, his silence scaring her.

But he just coldly shrugged her off, replacing distance between them once more.

"Not now, Murrue. I'm driving." She recoiled as if stung. But she _was_—his cold words stung her, shattering her heart like it was glass.

When had it become so fragile?

The car sped up beneath his strained touch, but it didn't matter. Mu was taking them along every back road, coasting past every shortcut sure to take the absolute longest route home. Murrue didn't mind either.

In the silence, Murrue looked down at the newly replaced rings now adorning her finger. The silver bands shone with a brilliance, the diamond sparking just the same as all those years before. Countless times she had admired them, admired what they stood for. But now . . .

Could it be over?

Silence weighted heavy, but Murrue noticed when Mu suddenly fidgeted in his seat, hands gripping the wheel extending their long fingers, the palms shifting their grasp.

Suddenly the car _did_ pull over, though it was the only car on the road.

Murrue dared a look at his face. She had been afraid since she's seen how cold he was being. But this time, she didn't see the stone from before—she saw a complete mask of _pain_. Murrue couldn't deny how it stirred fear.

"Mu . . . !" Fear and worry took hold of her breathless voice, the emotion seizing him again, body clenching tighter.

He shifted again, wincing once more as Murrue looked on in horror.

"_Murrue_ . . ." He breathed, every syllable pushing beyond limits. His tone matched

his struggling face, wrenched tight in stubborn inability—in _pain_.

". . . Did . . . _Did you kiss him_?"

Murrue blinked at Mu, completely lost for words. She knew she should be "hurt" at how he didn't trust her—To think she'd kiss _him_. But . . . she couldn't even imagine what he'd seen. She couldn't begin to hope to grip what it meant through _his_ eyes. But she was sure of one thing. What he saw, it must have been incriminating.

Or heartbreaking.

And he'd probably been thinking about nothing else since then.

And _she_ did that to him.

Murrue found herself forcing her look up from where her eyes had quickly rushed to her lap. And then, Murrue couldn't stop herself—what she did, neither head nor heart had reason for it.

She reached over, long fingers suddenly cradling his face, surprising. With a soft nudge, Murrue moved his face to look at hers. That stone from before shattered, crumbling.

"Mu," Murrue whispered, warmth bubbling in her heart without her knowing the reason. She shook her head, slowly enough to be sure he saw. Despite Murrue's own restrictions, she could feel hot water stretching her eyes. "No," she smiled. "He didn't even touch me."

The look of pure, un-held-back elation sprung into Mu's eyes, even resulting in the straightening out of his posture.

That look, that reaction . . . Murrue couldn't stop that one tear: whether of joy or sadness, she knew not.

"Let's go home, Mu," she smiled, voice soft and warm. Mu's still weak grin reflected hers as the car regained its life and pulled out.

Silence once more reigned in the car, but the silence reigned with content. Vut after a bit more driving, Mu couldn't help piping up.

"He was pretty good-looking though. . . ." Murrue stared back. Did Mu just ask what she _thought_ he did? She struggled the pink off her cheeks and turned away.

"Yeah, but not extremely handsome."

"Seemed like a nice personable guy. . . ." Mu went on, shifting a bit in his seat, smile to his voice. Murrue could only imagine where his point was.

"Yes . . ." She started, cautious. "But I certainly know better—ones with more style in their approach." A chuckle escaped him, unable to wag his finger in her face, scolding.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Murrue."

"I know." She smiled. ". . . Oh, but it does."

Another round of conversation ended, Murrue's heated awkwardness gone. She stared aimlessly out the window—the back roads sure took a while. Mu kept navigating them along those roads, each turn taken with ease. But still . . . Silence.

Mu took a deep breath.

". . . He said he knew I was your husband. . . ."

Oh, so that's what's on you mind now, Murrue mused with a soft smile. She thought she understood. With only a soft hesitation:

"We were talking about you. . . . He kept asking all these questions.—He was extremely forward." Mu dared a glance at Murrue incredulous as to what he knew came next.

"And you answered him?"

"Well, it depended on the question," she fumbled quietly, feeling his eyes on her. Murrue's face flushed. "Some of them were a bit _too_ forward . . . but he seemed to know the answers even when I didn't open my mouth." Murrue paused, finding her words. "But, the ones about _you_ and who _we_ were . . . Yes, I answered those. I don't have anything to hide. . . . Do I?"

Mu worked on the constriction of his chest—he wanted to answer her. He didn't know what to say, but Mu knew he had to say _some_thing.

"—Uh— " He paused, him the one awkward as he looked ahead. "Oh, we're home. . . ."

Nothing was said as Mu pulled up, parking their car and the ride was over.

Over.

Murrue was silently made her way out of the car she'd been in for some of the most trying moments. She started in her way inside, sure of Mu's following her, but when she turned around, he was still sitting in the car, door hanging open.

"Mu?" She didn't understand. But he looked up at her call, face cracking into a big smile. But that smiled quickly faltered as Murrue came closer.

"I'm still angry" he murmured. "—if 'angry' _is_ the right word—which it's not. . . ." Mu's face screwed up at his answer. He forced himself up, standing tall outside the car, leaning on the door.

When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, as if whispering a secret. "Murrue, you can go inside—you can pay the babysitter I had to search heaven and earth for just to be home incase something happened and Evi and Matt woke up or there was a fire or something so someone'd be home, 'kay?" He grinned. "You'd be amazed at how much she charges, but, it was a bit short notice.— . . . And after that you should get some rest," he quieted, concerned. "You look tired.—We can talk later."

"But what about—"

"I still have some driving to do." That was his answer. That was all he needed.

Murrue stopped in her tracks, understanding. Her eyes began to wash over her ringed fingers. Mu kept his place in the car, soft moonlight both lighting and shrouding his face.

"Oh-okay," she mumbled. Mu laughed into a soft smile.

"Don't worry. I'll be right back."

His tone was such that it struck her—so warm and caring, so _familiar_, so true. With a sigh, Murrue glanced up to her husband, heart jumping at the true warmth emanating from his face.

But then Murrue came closer, Mu's face stretching in surprise with each step she took. Soon she planted her feet and stood right before him, hands coupled before her and waiting. Mu wondered only fleetingly as to why. She was close enough for him to feel her breaths lightly glance off his neck, but other than that, no contact whatsoever.

That urge she'd felt before came back strong as she moved up high onto her toes to catch his lips with hers. She kept him there with one faint hand against his neck, pushing his head down to close the gap between their heights. But Murrue pulled away as quickly as she'd come closer.

Mu smiled at her, her taste still tingling on his lips.

"See you in a bit." And then he slid himself back down into the car seat, door closing quickly after. The low engine started and before pulling out, Mu smiled at Murrue's form illuminated by the headlights. She stood there waving at him, soft smile caressing her face.

And then he left.

Murrue stood on the walk before the house until she couldn't possibly see the car drive any farther away in the darkness. Her finger came up to lightly touch her mouth where she'd kissed him. It chilled her. He hadn't touched her at all. They were close enough, a brush of his hand would have been enough, but there had been nothing.

"Mu . . ."

--------

The car Mu drove ran along the street in the darkness—the same street they lived on together. Mu kept going until he could turn—which he did. He drove a block more, positive he'd be far enough away and out of sight. Then, there, on the side of the house-lines street, Mu parked the car. Moonlight came through the window, making streaks across his face and covering the seat beside in an unearthly glow.

With the car off, Mu pulled out the keys.

He sighed, all the air completely gone from him. And then he moved forward resting his sore head against the steering wheel where his arms also rested. And Mu sat there curled forward, closed eyes looking down to his lap, struggling all he could to control his weak breathing.

It had been one trying night.

And with that, Mu suddenly threw himself back, draping himself completely over the car seat's back. His neck curved perfectly over the low head of the cushion, resting his face staring up towards the car's ceiling.

Himself, mind and body, utterly spent.

* * *

There!—Done! 

_Sorry Mu's a bit . . ._

Probably made you hate me even more with that one, huh? But the thought just popped into my head (while I was busy trying to think up other nicer, happy stories) and it was so interesting I explored the idea, but I didn't think I would actually write it. But here it is, all 22 typed pages of it.

I'm struggling for a story with that new baby I introduced awhile ago, but I assure you it IS coming soon! (And it'll be happy and Kara-free!)

But about this story . . . Mind if I rant? Every marriage/relationship has its problems, we all know that. But with Mu and Murrue it seems they glaze over these problems, these glitches, to make them work. (but maybe I'm the only one thinking this) But, because of that, I always seem to make all these **_big_** problems for them because it's just so hard to bring out the hardship-battling couple with such _trifle_ problems—since, as I said, they're so good at glazing over some of those things.

(There's a compliment for them in there somewhere.)

--Of course, I know, it's just a weak excuse for being a bad writer. And I'm sorry for being a bit out of line for going to the extremes a lot. But I keep trying

Till next time—a happy story!


	8. The Party

I've **_finally_** fully introduced that little girl from "4. A New Baby"!—And thank you both Seigi-san and irishdragon for some name help, I couldn't have done it without you two!

Well I'm not that good with writing the other characters of Gundam SEED (Kira, Cagalli, etc.) so you can see how little they appear in my stories. For this, I wanted to change that a bit and include 'em all a lot more! But . . . of course, when I was done, I look back and I see that they appear very little. Again. So sorry for that, I'll try harder when it comes to them. Darn subconscious.

Also, remember, this takes place after a story where Mu didn't die in SEED (meaning Destiny didn't happen)so I tried to keep the characters in that sense. It was a bit hard. Hopefully it's alright.

Oh, and if I've gotten the ages a bit off with the years, sorry. I completely suck at Math so I'm not that fond of my math skills at the moment.

I liked writing the beginning to this story and some middle scenes so much, I don't know why . . . but for the entire thing, (I think it kind of rambles).

* * *

**VIII. The Party**

**_The Week Before_**

Murrue was busy cleaning up the kitchen, dishes piled up from the lunch they'd just finished. She dried her hands, the soapy sink water on them gone for the moment. She sighed and pushed a bit of auburn hair from her face.

Evi was somewhere, running around the house, Matt most likely in tow. Every now and again Murrue would hear the soft stampede of her children's feet disrupting the quiet.

That morning Kara was supposed to have come by and picked the two kids up, keeping them for the weekend. It was supposed to be something like a sleepover and Tyler, Evi, Matt and Donnie were all looking forward to it. It had been quite a while since that family moved away so the kids couldn't see each other as much as they would have liked. This weekend would have been a great escape—both for the kids and for Mu and Murrue. The time alone would have been welcomed.

But Kara never showed up. She had called the night before—Tyler was sick. Evi and Matt wouldn't be spending the weekend over there. . . . So now the two kids, with their pent up energy, released it all in a lovely rundown of the large house. It wouldn't have been half as bad if it wasn't _raining_ outside.

"Mama! Mommy!" Evi bounded into the kitchen, and, surprisingly, Matt wasn't with her. Murrue slightly shook her head, she could feel the beginnings of a headache coming along—and it wasn't even half-past noon yet. And ever since Evi's sixth birthday, _eight_ months before, the little girl had been constantly switching between "Mama" and "Mommy"—not that it really mattered, it just strained Murrue's nerves a bit quicker. . . .

"What is it, Evi?" Murrue smiled anyway. The young girl was still too cute.

"Mama, Matt and I are making a fort in his room! Where are the blankets?"

"In the closet they've always been in, Evi." Murrue turned back to her cleaning, but not quick enough to not see her daughter's face fall.

"We've already used those, Mommy, we need _more_."

Murrue froze in her spot, mind picturing the neat, organized, closet with its shelves filled with blankets and sheets—completely filled. And then, she imagined it empty—completely empty. It made her heart drop.

"Surely you didn't use _all_ of them?" It was a vain attempt.

"You mean there's no more?"

"No, sorry. No more."

"Oh," the young girl's russet eyes dropped. "Oh, okay." Murrue watched the young girl trudge away and a heavy sigh quickly left her lips.

"And now I have _that_ to clean up too . . ." she murmured, practically as a whimper beneath her breath. Murrue placed a light hand to her forehead, eyes glancing about, surveying the neat kitchen. They rested on _them_. The amber of her eyes met the crystal cerulean staring back and Murrue couldn't hold back that content sigh of peace.

"Oh . . ."

Murrue's gaze washed over the owner to those blue eyes, the one who sat there so silently, watching. She hadn't forgotten they were there, she had just become preoccupied for the moment. Those crystal blue eyes, the ones she knew so much, were not the ones of her husband—oh no. They were those of her daughter, her _other_ daughter.

Only eleven months old, the young girl sat silently in her little high-chair, fine light brown hair messily brushed into her round face.

Murrue lightly swept the strands away.

The girl opened her mouth, a simple baby gurgle coming out and the mother couldn't hold back a smile. Simple love danced in her eyes as she watched the young girl stare back. Murrue leaned forward onto the counter as the young infant began to bounce in its chair, small arms reaching forward and a simple baby's laugh filled the air.

It reminded Murrue of her other two children—the two currently messing up Matthew's room. She loved them all, but even so, Mu's faint words traveled through her.

"Everybody's cute until they learn to talk," she smiled. "—or walk."

The young girl gurgled another baby word and Murrue's fingers lovingly traveled her daughter's face.

"And when you get older, you're going to be just like them, hm? You're going to be joined in all their antics as well?" Just imagining the answer made Murrue smile, soft giggles escaping. "We're going to have our arms full, huh? _Three_ children? I doubt even Mu could keep up with you three. . . ."

"What do you say, Marie? Think Daddy's gonna be able to handle you?"

That smile dimmed, but the amber of Murrue's eyes flashed—teasingly, of course, as she put on a pout.

"Mu's the one to blame, you know—getting me pregnant. . . ." She laughed, suddenly wondering how much a little eleven-month old could understand. "Not that I mind, I love you all too much." Murrue leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to the baby's cheek, fingers caressing the soft cheek lovingly after she pulled away. Murrue's amber eyes gazed into the Mu-reflecting blue eyes of her daughter.

The warming silence was broken by loud crash, a thump and a bit of yelling.

"Eviiiii! You pushed over my book case!"

"It's your book case's fault for falling over."

"But you _pushed_ it!"

"I'm older!"

Murrue shook her head, staring down at her youngest baby. The mother knew she should go downstairs, see what was wrong, and yet something held her back. She'd go down in a moment—she had to finish her thought first.

The yelling quieted down downstairs as Murrue rubbed her daughter Marie's cheek, amber eyes flashing dangerously, playfully.

"But, still, if we have another child that's even half as active as those two are . . . I'll wring his neck."

Murrue suffered a laugh before his voice scared her half to death.

"And . . . _who_ are we talking about again?" She spun around, surprised yet not so surprised to see his thick, cocky figure standing utterly close behind her. The rain of outside was welded into his half-damp clothes, the wetness perched in his golden hair as well. In his hands he held the mail of the day and his uniform cap. And his eyes . . . They weren't as simple and 'cute' as Marie's—his were laughing, and knowingly glaring his playful stare.

"Mu!" Murrue brightened, moving the short distance to kiss him. "You're home early." His arms made their way about her waist.

"Yeah, I got them to let me off a bit earlier today."

"A _bit_?" She asked, incredulous as she glanced over at the clock. Mu's work for the military usually had him coming home _hours_ from then.

"Yes," he clipped, holding her closer, readying for another kiss. "—Oh, and don't you worry about those two _rascals_ downstairs. I took care of 'em." But Murrue pushed him away.

"Oh really?" Murrue's arms left for a different hold as she went to pulling Marie from her high-chair. The young girl rested in the mother's arms, Mu giving the little girl a welcome-home kiss too.

Mu's shoulder's still sagged as Murrue walked off a bit. He fingered through the mail.

He whined: "I hope Tyler gets better soon. My short little vacation starts next week and I cant wait to spend an _entire_ day with you and _only_ you. . . ." He looked up at her, Murrue catching the full force of his gaze. Her cheeks pinked.

Even with three kids, he could still make her blush so easily.

"Yes, well," she cleared her throat, "it's time for Marie's nap, Mu. Could you put her down?" Murrue held out her sleepy baby bundle, blue eyes traced with sleep, light brown locks gracing face again. Murrue waited for Mu to grab Marie, but Mu never went to touch the child. He instead, stood focused in one spot, eyes glued to a pale blue paper, the envelope it came in sharing the color.

". . . Mu?"

He answered her with a soft chuckle and a hard grin. Holding out the pale blue letter, Mu waved it for her to take it, to understand his grin. Giving in to her own curiosity, Murrue fixed Marie in her arms then snatched the paper from him.

As her eyes widened, he began to laugh.

"So the Kid's twenty-four this year.—So's that sister of his."

"Use their names, Mu," Murrue muttered, placing the invitation down, fixing her hold on the sleeping Marie. "That _is_ what they're there for after all."

"Aw, but names are so _boring_," Mu whined. "I like Kid, Girl and 'Hey You!' so much better. . . ."

"Oh?" Murrue challenged, amber eyes flashing. "And what about me? What's _my_ name? Am I just 'Wife' now?"

Her glare set off the low, deep rumble of a laugh within his throat, Mu's signature rogue grin adorning his face as he stepped closer. One glance down to the sleeping baby girl in her arms then his gaze rested on his wife's face. So did his hand. Mu's fingertips ran down her cheek, slowly, softly.

"I have so many for you . . ."

The couple was so lost in that prelude to a kiss, they didn't hear the rest of the family trudging up the stairs. Evi's soft murmur is what 'woke' them.

"Mama, Mommy . . . We're sorry. . . ." Surprised and confused, Mu and Murrue turned to face the two older children. Evi and Matt stood there, heads down, voices low in 'guilt'. Murrue noticed only slightly how Mu began to grin beside her.

". . .Yeah," Matt mumbled. "We cleaned it all up. . . ."

"We didn't _mean_ to make such a mess."

"But—Mama," Matt suddenly lightened up, young face pleading as a little boy would. "Can we leave the fort there for a few days, please, please!"

But the girl beside him gave a sudden elbowing.

"_Matt_," Evi hissed. "_Don't_—"

"Of course you can," Murrue smiled at them. The children's shocked faces brought the parents' smiles to grins.

"Say . . ." Mu cut in, waving the pale blue paper in the air before Evi and Matt. "You guys want to go to a party next week?"

Their shocked faces lit up in an instant.

-----

**_The Day Of_**

Mu and Murrue had struggled to race about the house fast enough to get all three children dressed up and ready to go while making sure they themselves were presentable. Finally, though, they were all ready (though a bit late) as they rushed into the car and drove off.

The day of Kira and Cagalli's party had come.

In the car, things were silent. Well, not entirely . . . Evi kept singing songs that never seemed to end while Matt wasted his breath in trying to shut the older girl up. Mu and Murrue on the other hand, didn't talk. Their minds were too busy going over the one thought that had been haunting them.

The people they were going to see . . . It had been so long since they'd seen everybody. Why was that?

Murrue thought she came up with the answer.

Time passed by and people drifted. Lives changed and went off, those people gone to follow the path they'd made for themselves. Thinking about it, time had changed them as well. They had gone off to their own little world, had kids and jobs and life itself to gather their worries. . . .

She voiced the ideas to Mu, but only after Evi has settled down, dozing off in the back, leaving things quiet. Matt just sat there, Marie sleeping off the meal she'd just been given.

Mu just smiled at what Murrue said.

"Yeah, we see some of 'em on occasion, like Kira or someone on the street, but that's only on occasion and we never really talk . . . So, yeah, you're right, Murrue."

"Really? Is that really what's happening?"

"Even though one might want to stay together, the truth is that people fade away." Then Mu began to laugh—a low chuckle sprouting from deep within him. Mu fixed his hands on the steering wheel he drove.

"I remember . . . there was this one guy back at the training academy. —Best buds, great guy. A bit knocked off in the head, but we were practically inseparable." Mu's grin dimmed. "Then training was over, and he went one way, I went the other . . . but, being so close as friends, we kept in touch. Or at least we did for a little while. And now—No, even back _before_ the Archangel—I still have no idea whether he's even alive."

Murrue was silent. She didn't know. There were still moments of his past that she didn't know. But there was still so much about her past he didn't know, either.

Odd, they'd been together so long.

But Mu had to keep on talking.

". . . See, as much as you want to stay close sometimes, sometimes _time_ itself is all you need to rip relationships apart. —_Any_ relationships. Families, Loves, Friends . . . any relationship."

"But it doesn't really matter," Mu mumbled. "All that does matter is that now we're going to be there, with everybody, catching up on whatever it is we could have missed during these past few busy years."

"You know, you say 'busy' but what have we done? I cant think of—"

"Done?" He blinked in surprise and turned away from the road he was driving on to stare at her, incredulous. "Have you _looked_ in the back-seat recently? We have three healthy kids, I have a beautiful and healthy wife and you have a handsome, brave, intelligent, and all around amazing husband."

Murrue huffed, eyes narrowed as she glared back.

"Hm, and you forgot to add _cocky_, _arrogant_—"

"Hey, hey, Murrue. We're supposed to be looking at the glass as three-quarters full, here."

"But the saying is 'half-full'."

"Ah, ah," he wagged his finger reprimanding in her face. "_What_ did I just say, Murrue?"

She stared at him for the longest time, silence growing as his grin widened. With a sudden roll of her tawny eyes, Murrue smiled in exasperation, gaze teetering out the window.

"_You_ sure haven't changed."

"You're wrong," he smirked, sitting taller in his chair. "I'm older." Murrue raised her eyebrows at his.

"I thought you said we should be focusing on the 'glass being three-quarters full'."

"But the saying is '_half_-full', Murrue. Don't you know that? You're getting it mixed up."

He grinned, Murrue stared. Again. Silence surrounded them. Again.

She stared at him, astounded. His circular teasing leaving her speechless. Faintly Murrue wondered, as she began to rest her head on her hand, how had she been able to live so many years with _that_ _guy_ testing her sanity? What—

A young voice broke her stunned silence, surprising the gleam out of Mu's blinding grin.

"Mama?" It was Matt, in that small voice of his.—Surprising Evi was still quiet. ". . . What glass? Where is it?" Murrue turned around in her seat to look at her son in the back. Mu had to keep driving. Matt sat squashed between his sisters, slate blue eyes questioning, head of rich hair flopping neatly before them.

Murrue was at a loss.

"Ah . . . I'll show you when we get to the party . . . okay, Sweetie?"

"Okay!" He beamed, excited by the answer. He beamed his father's smile. Murrue could see it already—and Matt was only three.

Marie gurgled beside him.

"Oh," Murrue realized quietly. "Mu?" Her tone hardened up his eyes.

"What is it, Murrue?"

"Don't you think it's going to be awkward—"

"Murrue," Mu smiled, suffering from keeping off a laugh. She was just so . . . "It's going to be alright. Nothing to worry about."

"O-Okay." Yet Murrue rung her hands, coupled there in her lap. "But . . . Please . . . for _me_ . . . Could you . . ."

"Keep to myself? A pleasure," Mu droned, sarcasm dripping from his voice, blue eyes flashing daggers as Murrue pinked up. He knew exactly what she wanted, to be together but _not_ really together with him.

She still hadn't changed.

The car slowed. They were there.

The time of the party had begun.

-----

The car slowed, came to a stop, and Murrue could see large party spanning across the green field. People were everywhere, though mostly in the shade, as a group of young children played a game like tag in the distance. It was a beautiful day.

Murrue glanced over to catch her eyes with Mu's but to her surprise, he wasn't there. The driver's seat was empty. She cocked her head in surprise, but that was when her car door was opened, familiar thick hand reaching to her side.

"Ladies first," Mu grinned, holding out is hand for her to hold on her way out. Surprised and slightly suspicious at the sudden princess attention, Murrue narrowed her eyes before very cautiously laying her hand into his.

She had right to be cautious.

When she took hold of his hand, Mu immediately pulled her up and hard into his arms. He then, without even a moment's hesitation, continued to lay his lips to hers. Murrue was shocked by his action, surprised and confused, but despite everything, she tentatively kissed him back. But, it _was_ Mu. She didn't stay tentative for long.

And there they stood, locked tight in the other's embrace, their kiss dragging on. His hands pushing her closer, her arms holding him there.

Only when a soft laughter began to rumble deeply through Mu's throat did Murrue pull away. Her dark eyes caught sight of his satisfied smirk and grinning eyes, and immediately her eyes narrowed in confused suspicion.

And their surroundings returned to her then.

They were in each other's arms. After a long (and rather hot) kiss. Standing before their simple car. A whole group of old friends surrounding them.

Old friends.

Ones they hadn't seen in years.

Just staring.

As they kissed.

Rather passionately.

Murrue flushed scarlet. Mu had . . .

Within moments Murrue was bent deep into the car, her fumbling with the car seat that Marie had. Murrue placed a hand to her own cheek trying vainly to cool her face down, away from all the eyes. Outside Mu's low laugh was beginning to echo in the other's ears. Murrue could easily imagine what was happening. Her husband was already laughing it up with the other guests, shaking hands and making comments—Acting as if nothing had changed. Murrue didn't want to come out of their car again.

Things _had_ changed.

_And he had promised to keep to himself!_

But, of course, Marie eventually came free from her seat, leaving Murrue with no choice but to come out, young daughter cradled in her arms.

What she saw though, when she finally focused on the people before them . . . It wasn't too bad. There weren't as many people as Murrue had thought. . . .

Murrue nodded her hellos to the ones before them, her arms full with Marie. Mostly the group was of people the family had never seen before, people resting in the shade close to where the car had pulled up. But there were a few old friends mixed in—Mostly Bridge Crew. Neumann from the Archangel's bridge grinned at the couple and their child before walking off with what appeared to be his own family.

As all the company wandered off, Murrue fixed her hold on the grinning Marie before turning to the openly laughing Mu.

"You did that on purpose," she muttered darkly beneath seething breaths. But Mu just laughed once more.

"Of course." He placed a sweet touch of his lips to her forehead affectionately before turning around to the car. Ducking in, he surveyed the two remaining children. Matt just stared at him, Evi thankfully asleep with the ride. "So . . . I take it I have to wake Evi?" He grimaced. It took a bit to wake the eldest daughter.

"After you get Matt out. I've got my arms full."

"Gotcha," he grinned, hard and full. Mu's thick hands quickly pulled the young boy, setting him on the ground beside. Then Evi.

With a bit of bugging, the little girl was awake and up and about. With a bit of tugging, the family of five made their way forward into the sea made of old friends and new ones yet to be made.

-----

In the shade of one of the thick trees, Mu leaned against the trunk and stretched. Beside him, on the grass, Marie was playing—a pink doll and a few building blocks as her toys. Mu could glance up and watch Matt running about in the distance or Evi playing with some new found friends. He smiled. He knew he could watch them all day.

Underneath some of the other trees, the rest of the party stood, the guests mingling with each other and eating their full. It was a great day, a great party, why waste it?

He and Murrue had walked about the party for a short while, only having very little conversations with a few people while in that sea of people. In fact, they had only come across Kira and Cagalli once, and just long enough for them to welcome the older couple and say a few things before having to go off again. The party was humongous—too big to really call it a party.

A rest was welcome.

Mu slid himself down to sitting on the grass, back still against the tree as he played a bit with Marie's fine baby hair. His eyes traveled across all the other guests, searching almost wistfully for that head of auburn and that body of curves. Murrue had gone off—to be with the rest of the group. Mu only minded being left behind a teensy bit. There were people he wanted to see, but somebody had to watch Marie, and the others. So Mu stayed behind, alone, sitting and waiting.

Slowly, his eyes drifted shut, himself lost in the peaceful breeze and the rustle of grass beside him softly announcing his daughter's presence.

So lost was Mu that when he heard more rustling than expected, he didn't notice.

So lost was Mu that when he felt something brush by his shoulder, he didn't care.

So lost was Mu that—

"GAH!" Mu's hand slapped hard to his face as he woke up, the cold wetness biting at his cheek. Blue eyes wide, heart beating wildly, Mu looked over to a shaking Murrue knelt beside him. Murrue shaking with laughter, an ice cold drink resting in her hand.

"Murrue! Scare me half to death, why don't you," he growled, eyes flashing. She just smiled, amber dancing as she slid the cold glass into her husband's hand.

"Aw, but who would watch over the kids?—You're doing such a fine job already. . . . Sleeping."

"I wasn't sleeping," Mu pouted, taking a sip from whatever it was Murrue brought him. "I was just . . ."

"Mm-hm. Okay," she nodded, completely agreeing, tone saying otherwise. Without any more words, Murrue picked up her baby, still playing by Mu's legs and carried the infant in her arms as the woman guided herself down beside Mu. Out of habit, one arm of his pulled Murrue closer.

Marie let out another baby giggle in her mother's arms before trying to get away from them. She wriggled and giggled, all the while fighting her way off. Shocked and surprised, Murrue let the girl go, to roam about in the patch of shade beside her father's legs. Again.

"Hm, feisty one, eh?" Mu murmured low to Murrue's ear as he pulled his woman closer—using two arms now, the drink she'd given him lying forgotten in the grass. She nuzzled into his hold, resting her ear on his chest, the pounding of his heart soothing her tired mind.

"I have a feeling she's going to turn out just like those two. . . ." Murrue muttered in return.

"How are we going to handle all three of them when they're older?"

"Oh, what about sixteen?" Murrue mumbled with a gasp. "When Evi's sixteen, Matt'll be . . . thirteen and Marie'd be ten.—How're we gonna make it that long?"

"No, no, stop," Mu groaned, shifting in his spot. Murrue looked up, confusion covering her face, but he just grinned—and whined. "Kira's twenty-four, same with that girl. And if that's not enough, now, Evi at _six_ is already making me feel old. In ten years I'll be an old _geezer_."

"Oh stop it," Murrue huffed, playfully slapping him in the arm. "No you wont." She glared at him, amber flashing dangerously.

Mu swallowed.

Satisfied with his silent answer, Murrue settled herself back down beside her husband on the grass, cool shade gripping them and their youngest child. She snuggled closer, situating her thoughts on his close, warm breathing again.

Moments pass.

Mu's hand found its way to Murrue's hair, it gently running over the thick auburn waves as she rested there.

Her soft voice slipped into the easy silence.

". . . We should do this more often. . . ." Mu blinked, low laugh deep in his throat.

"Oh, you mean go to the Kid's party to only doze off in the shade?"

Her absence of an answer answered tons.

Silence. Welcomed silence.

Mu's hand still gently stroked Murrue's hair, Murrue's cheek still gently pressed close to Mu's chest.

". . . I proposed to you today, remember? Eight years ago?"

"Mm-hm." Murrue just nuzzled closer, sweet smile adorning her peaceful face. Mu smiled in return.

"Eight years. . . ." He murmured again, played awe high in his voice. "_Wow_, if that doesn't make a person feel old, I don't know what will."

"_Mu_." Murrue threatened with her tone. If he didn't stop worrying about time . . .

He was ruining her moment, thinking so far into the future and past. Though she could never stop her heart from thinking about future plans, Murrue disliked looking so far ahead and saying what things would be like. She, no, Mu included, knew exactly how easily those plans could change.—How in an instant, it could all fall apart.

Mu's soft tone bought Murrue back.

"Eight years . . ."

He looked down into her eyes, the utter softness and care—the _love _in his eyes was just . . . Mu's voice was soft, low and lulling, his hand softly caressing her cheek.

"But those are years well wasted," he spoke, words sifting deep, caressing just as his fingers did. "Because I spent those years with _you_. . . . Making this." He motioned lightly to their surroundings, and their third child still sitting there in the grass. Murrue weakened beneath his gaze's hold. Her amber eyes welled deep as she moved closer.

The moment was ripe for a deep kiss and a few 'I love yous'. . .

"Mu . . . I . . ."

". . . Yes . . ."

—Then _they_ had to ruin it.—

"Hey! Lovebirds!" Kira, the birthday boy, walked up wife in hand, old friends gathered round. They stepped into the shade—Mu and Murrue's shade—and continued to talk, Kira grinning. "So _this_ is where you've been hiding."

"Ah, I wouldn't call it hiding," Mu grinned at the surprise, all the while inwardly gritting his teeth. He was _so_ close. . . .

_Yeah, go on, spoil my moment, why don't yah. . . ._

"Hello, Kira," he forced out. "Lacus. . . . Everybody."

"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. LaFlaga. How are you enjoying everything?"

The older man sat there beneath the tree, running his fingers through his thick blond hair. His wife, who just moments before was so intimately close, was now sitting aside, soft rose to her cheeks. A young baby moved about the grass in between them.

"It's great," Mu grinned, hard sarcasm slipping into his tone. "Thanks."

"It's wonderful," Murrue cut in smiling, shooting a glare to her less-than enthusiastic husband. Not that the group cared what Mu said—they all could tell why he was acting sour. They were all old friends—all from the war. They understood.

"I'm sorry for having to run off without talking with you guys more earlier," Kira murmured. "It's just that there are so many people here, I couldn't get away."

"No, Kira, it's fine," Murrue smiled from her seat on the grass. Marie began to crawl over. "We understand."

"Yeah," Mu cut in heartily, still not bothering to stand. "Who knew you'd have all of Orb at your party."

"Well, most of them are here for Cagalli, but she's been dragging me around with her all day." Mu and Murrue smiled at the younger man's exasperated sigh. "I mean, a party's fine, but a nice small one would be so much easier . . ."

Even _he_ was all worn out.

Lacus smiled understandingly from beside Kira and then . . . she was gone. Kira's confusion merged with the grassed couple's. But with her disappearance also came the disappearance of everybody else.

The trio was alone, each one smiling.

"How is everything?" Mu asked, breaking the silence. His dark eyes questioned as his thick arm reached out for Murrue a ways off beside him.

Kira answered only in laughter at the more than shocked face of his former Captain when Mu suddenly and literally dragged her closer, right up against him. The young Marie was held in her arms, large blue eyes open and alert.

"Mu!" Murrue struggled, but his arm kept her in place. "What are you—"

"Shh, you were here before, remember?" Murrue's cheeks pinked up as she recalled just what exactly Mu meant. But Kira was still there, so she tried to explain, but her words came out in low mumbles.

"But that was . . ."

Mu laughed, Murrue still lightly blushed. Kira's laughter mixed with Mu's.

"I see you two are doing just fine."

"Yep," Mu grinned as he leaned over and kissed Murrue hard. Against any and all protest. When he let her lips go, Murrue was quite red, but smiling none the less.

"See?" Mu smirked at his obvious win, "Kira doesn't _care_. Right, Kid?"

"R-Right." Although Kira was also a bit pink at the sight. He liked the fact they were together, was glad they were so openly happy, but sometimes . . . to see former superiors making-out would make anybody awkward.

Murrue played with Marie, wrapped up in her arms, as she finally gave in and leaned back against Mu, finally enjoying his support and comfort.

"Um, anyway," Kira smiled, "—you're enjoying everything, right?"

"Of course," Mu grinned. "But there are so many people."

"So much has changed," Murrue brought up. ". . . so much is different." Kira agreed.

"It's just been too long."

"We should have everybody over to _our_ house sometime," Mu piped up, still holding Murrue ever closer. "—Like before. But with no strings attached."

Murrue nestled herself back into his chest, eyes flashing at the thought.

"Hmm, I like it. What do you say, Kira?" The younger boy began to smile at the idea, his rich violet eyes brimming at his old friends.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

They talked, laughed and teased. Mu about how Kira was getting old, Kira bout how Mu was even _older_, they talked of kids, children stories . . . Evi was going to start school soon, Kira's young boy just beginning to speak. It was beginning to be a truly wonderful day.

Until . . .

The young kids in the distance, running around and playing . . . Even though talking with Kira, Mu and Murrue each had one eye on the group, Evi and Matt still deep in the mix.

"So I see that—"

Then came the loud cry. That group, out there playing, everybody had stopped and began to circle around one spot. The adults eyes were drawn there as well. Somebody was crying. Somebody young . . . and familiar . . .

The sound registered in Mu and Murrue's ears.

"Oh, Matt!" Immediately, Murrue was to her feet, Marie now in Mu's arms. After giving Kira a short 'see you', Murrue was off to where they knew their young Matthew was crying. Mu, left behind, gazed down at Marie's full face, partly drowsy with the day, but eyes bright with the noise of crying.

"Matt," Mu shook his head. "Shoulda known . . ." Soon the crying subsided, and eyes slowly turned away from the scene of a mother calming her son.

Kira and Mu were in another conversation.

"She looks like you," Kira muttered with a smile, looking between the young child in Mu's arms and the older pilot. Marie gurgled a baby laugh.

"Yeah, well, not really," was the man's only response. Mu picked himself up off the shady grass with a groan. Once standing he stretched, and glanced over at how little Kira was beside him—it was like the kid hadn't grown at all.

"So, Kid, any plans?"

"I'm twenty-four. I've grown a bit from 'Kid' don't you think?"

"Hah, well, you'll always be that young annoying brat in my eyes, Kid." Mu laughed, and where he had figured Kira would join in, the younger man was silent.

". . . You've changed."

"Hm?" Mu hadn't heard all of what the boy muttered, but he could guess. Mu's blue eyes looked over Kira, him waiting for an answer.

"You've aged."

Shock. "_What_?"

There Kira laughed.

"In a good way," he assured with a smile.

Kira motioned over to Murrue who was making her way closer with Matt in her arms, tears still streaming the young toddler's face from his fall. He was just fine. Evi was out running around still—she kept pausing in the children's game to wave a smile back at her family. They were sitting at down at a table—Mu and Murrue, Matt and Marie—they were finally catching up with everybody else over lunch.

Friends, each leading very different lives, and each one somehow drifting off as well. But here they were, together once more, at least for this moment.

The party was great. Only one thing being certain by the end.

Nobody would have to wait another year to see everybody once more.

* * *

**AN:** Sorry it was so long, probably too long to understand and enjoy . . .—and it's a bit out there too. 

See how even though I wanted to star the others they rarely make an appearance? Yeah, I have to work on that.

Oh, and about Mu and getting older, that stemmed from a conversation I had where the end result was: Mu was just one of those guys, onewho'd want to stay his young self, a hotshot and everything for so long.

And I'm sorry a month's gone by since I last updated this! So sorry for leaving you off on a sour note too. But seriously, in a month I've done next to nothing while Seigi-san's written 35 amazing chapters to her "Isshoni"! (Great collection by the way, you have to read it!)

I'm so slow!


	9. A Different Time

This isn't like a "sequel" per say, more like a _counterpart_ to the previous chapter (8. The Party).

Same day, different year, different circumstances.

Let's just say this one is also considerably shorter than the one before it and a lot easier to get through. For some reason, I really like writing older Evi . . .

* * *

**IX. A Different Time**

"Okay, Dad," she called, running into the room. "How do I look?"

Mu glanced up from the book he was reading to watch his daughter as she stopped short in front of him, breathlessly giving him a twirl.

Her long summer dress traveled gently through the air with the spin, flashing its pale tan length, the one dotted with a pattern of red roses. Her long auburn hair waved down her back, half of it partly done up by a red ribbon. After she spun around another time, the rich locks rested smoothly along her pale shoulders.

When she stopped, Mu completely saw how the long dress adorned her and how it worked perfectly with his daughter's young figure.

Evi coupled her hands behind her back and leaned closer to her father with those questioning russet eyes. "Hm?"

"Beautiful." He smiled, blue eyes glittering. She really was. But Evi's rounded face fell at his response. She straightened up and looked down at what she wore, gathering the fabric idly in her hand.

"Like Mom Beautiful or just . . ."

Mu shook his head with a grin, always amused by her growing insecurity about looks. She really didn't have to worry. Mu's eyes brushed over her once more before he broke out in another of his grins.

"Like How-in-heck-could-you-be-so-beautiful-when-you-come-from-genes-like-mine-and-your-mother's Beautiful."

Mu's stare kept on his daughter, the hard of his blue eyes never straying.

Beneath the heat, Evi's dark eyes found the floor, voice lost to a small, faint murmur.

"Thanks. . . ."

A low laugh rumbled deep in the father's throat at her reaction. He stood himself up and walked on over to her, pulling the girl into a warm one-armed hug and holding her reassuringly close. Mu sealed the embrace with a kiss for his daughter, his lips dashing over Evi's forehead since she was tall enough then—right past his shoulder.

Mu glanced at the clock as they pulled away from each other, and his face couldn't help but screw up.

"Say . . . do you know where Matt is?"

Evi was about to reply when a door banged open from down the living room hallway. Young Matt came dragging himself out, dark scowl covering his entire demeanor. In his hand, Matt was seemingly trying to strangle a tie.

"Dad," he whined, "this stupid thing isn't working."

"Hey," Mu shot back darkly as he eased the fabric from his son's hand. Mu went to work on knotting the dark tie in its place. "Don't say 'stupid'."

"I don't see why we have to go to this _stupid_ thing anyway," Matt huffed, turning away from his father's glare and crossing his arms. "It's not like we know them or anything."

"_Matthew_!"

That shut the kid up. Mu ran fingers through his thinning hair with a sigh as he glanced about the empty hall. Evi had gone off to finish getting ready.

"They're old family friends and we go every year," Mu continued, placing the finishing touches to his son's outfit. He tried hard to make it presentable. "We've been busy the past few times but _now_ we're free, and _that's_ why we're going. I promised them, so stop complaining."

Matt sulked, ice eyes flashing when he showed his tongue to his father.

Mu stuck his tongue out right back.

"Now, hurry up and get your shoes on. We're gonna be late." Without another word, Matt's sulking form trudged off, the kid's bad mood easily radiating with each scowl. Mu watched his son and couldn't resist showing his tongue once more.

With a low laugh, Mu ran his fingers through his hair again.

_And I wonder where they get it from . . ._

_-----_

When they when to leave, Mu sat himself in the car, but when Evi came out (Matt following closely behind) she began to beg for him to move so she could drive. Well, she didn't have to 'beg' for long, one question and a silent waiting was all it took for Mu to hand over the keys.

No harm.

He settled himself into the passenger side, Matt strapped in the back. Mu didn't mind not driving.

But, oh, how he _regretted_ it.

The car speeded to a halt on the grass. Evi grinned as Mu let out a deep breath, the one he'd been holding—almost the entire time. They were there, yes, but nobody left the car. Matt listened intently from the back as the children's father proceeded to breathe in and out.

"You know . . ." He croaked, grinning. "You really shouldn't go . . ." Swallow. ". . . that fast. . . ."

"But Daddy, you said we were late."

"And now we're early." Swallow. "Very early."

The teenager apologized, but the smile flashing from her russet eyes showed just how deep the 'heartfelt apology' went.

"Okay," Mu grinned, teeth clenched hard. "Let's go."

Stepping from the car, Mu was caught with a sight he hadn't registered before, being too blinded by the speed his own daughter was driving. There were people all confined to two or three picnic tables out on the grass but also to the shade of a few trees. There were more people than Mu was expecting but little enough to still keep the quiet quaint feel of a close party.

"Hey! Mu!" The older man glanced up to the familiar face running closer. He couldn't hold back a grin.

Kira, though plenty older, still kept a childishness hidden within all the serious maturity. He hadn't really grown any taller, except his face and body had fleshed out, making the kid a man more than the first time Mu had met him. But then again, time had changed the both of them.

"Hey, Kid. Sorry we're a bit . . . early."

"No, no, it's fine. Almost everybody else is here already anyway."

"Say, where's the birthday girl?" Mu asked, glancing about the crowd. Kira turned to follow his gaze, hand going to scratch at his brown hair.

"Oh, I don't know. She went off somewhere with Lacus and I haven't seen either of them for a while." Kira turned back around. "They left me here alo— . . ." Then, his violet eyes spotted Evi silently standing behind Mu and all words left him. Mu heard Kira vaguely mutter something, something much resembling, "God, she looks just like her. . . ."

Mu cocked his head and turned around, smiling at his precious daughter.

"Evi, I'm surprised you haven't said anything yet." He flashed a fathering grin. "Kira, you remember my daughter, Evi? Evi, this is that Kira-kid I was telling you about."

The two exchanged 'hellos' and shook hands as Mu looked on, surprised at how his daughter was acting. She _wasn't_ the shy one. That was when Mu noticed the dark suit jacket held tightly in her hands.

"Evi . . . Where's _Matt_?"

"He ran off," she answered, quietly and coolly as the wind played at her long auburn hair. "I said he could. You wouldn't mind, right?"

"No, no, I wouldn't mind," Mu sighed, running fingers through his own thinning hair. Then he began to laugh. "Darn kid, always running off. Can speak to anyone he wants to, but _only_ if he wants to."

Kira grinned.

"Yeah," he agreed with his thirty-four year old smile. "My son's like that too."

"Hah, where is he? Bet you Matt's with 'em."

The two laughed. Evi watched, smiling, fascinated by the party already. It was going to be something else, that she knew already.

-----

Mu settled himself beneath the shade of a large tree and stood there. He's had enough of 'mingling' with the other guests. He had never been one for big parties and as he got older, Mu found himself getting tired much faster. Evi had disappeared from behind him long before, Matt still off somewhere. Mu had learned from Kira a lot about what had happened in the past few years, and through all their talking, they never once saw Lacus or Cagalli. Kira had finally gone off to look for them, leaving Mu behind to relax.

He stood in the shade, leaning against a tree. A small amount of cold water in one hand, the other held calmly in his pocket.

The cool breeze swept over him, pulling lightly at his hair, rippling through his clothes.

It was a wondrous day.

Mu closed his eyes and breathed in the day. It was just so nice. Even the loud talking of the party had been reduced to a soft hum for the peace.

"My, my, if it isn't Commander LaFlaga. . . ."

Mu blinked, and looked up, coming face to face with a man he hadn't seen in years. Man whose face hadn't changed whatsoever.

"Hey, it's Mr. Murdoch!" Mu laughed, reaching out to shake hands with the old Hangar buddy. "How long's it been?"

"Oh . . . Eleven years." Mu's dark eyes widened at the fact. Arms crossed before his chest, Mu just nodded at the old companion.

". . . Since Murrue?"

"Yeah. . . ." Murdoch turned his head away and lightly rubbed at his neck. The awkwardness had taken over them. Eleven years . . . since Murrue's funeral.

"It's disgusting," Mu spat, shocking the man standing beside. The pure malice in the long laughing man's voice chilled. "—how long it's been. We should see you more often than that!"

Mu grinned, laughing, much to Murdoch's pleasure. "So much has changed, hm?"

"Yeah," the man smiled, glad to see a smile of its own on Mu's easily tired face. "So, what have you been up to?"

"Oh, this and that, you know?"

"No, really, I don't actually."

More laughing. The pair kept talking, about what didn't really matter. It had been eleven years after all.

The conversation and it's laughing only stopped when Murdoch spotted Kira walking aimlessly away from the party stream of people.

"Hey, Kid! Over here!" Glancing up, the two men could easily see the grin grow on the kid's face.

Kira was over in an instant, with more hard drinks to share.

"Sorry I couldn't talk to you longer before. . . ." Kira apologized quietly as the first thing he said, stepping forward with more drinks in his hands for the two who stood beneath the tree. Mu and Murdoch grabbed the refreshments earnestly.

"No, you were busy with this grand party of yours," Mu grinned, understanding. There were only so many places a person could be at once. "Everything going as planned?"

"Actually, I'm not the one who set this up. It was all Lacus and Athrun. I didn't want a party this year. . . . I still haven't found those two girls yet."

"Aw, you should enjoy parties—especially if they're free," Mu grinned, swerving off the subject. "For you, anyway, Kid."

"Right," Murdoch agreed, raising his glass, "Even if they did leave, they're going to come back."

Mu elbowed Kira a bit to prove a point.

"You guys probably ran out of ice or something. . . . Nothing to worry about, Kid."

Kira sighed. He was standing next to the only two to call him Kid still. Even Andy Waltfeld had stopped. But Mu LaFlaga and Kojiro Murdoch didn't think that way. But Kira had grown used to the impending 'Kid' comments.—Even though he was just thirty-four years old already.

But, somewhere throughout the conversation, ol' Murdoch had to go, and soon when his gruff voice and hard demeanor left, it left only Mu and Kira sipping drinks beneath the tree.

Hard drinks.

The talk kept going, though Mu didn't really hear. Kira still spoke beside him, the younger man going on about what had happened in the past few years. Mu didn't really pay attention, but he must have nodded or said something in all the right spots for Kira just kept on going.

Not that Mu minded, it was just that his thoughts were focused elsewhere.

Throughout the 'conversation', Mu's eyes discreetly followed a jagged trail in the distance. It was Matt, out running around with some other kids, playing something like tag or some weird sport without a ball. Mu was just glad the kid had become more balanced over the years. When Matt was younger, the kid would always fall, but lately it never happened, so Mu didn't really worry when it came to Matt and his games. Whatever the dynamics of the game were, it didn't matter much to Mu. His eyes only followed one thing: his son.

His game-recruited, laughing, tongue-sticking, childish, pain-in-the-neck son.

And then his thoughts focused on another family member, and the truth about her.

Mu's crystal eyes glazed over a bit, sun shining into them, making the blues dance with thought.

"Say . . . I met you when you were sixteen and now my girl's sixteen. . . ." Mu muttered taking a sip of his cold drink. Kira just laughed beside him.

"Who knew you could ever be so old, Mu."

"_Hey_!"

"I'm just saying a lot of things have changed." Kira's voice strayed as he took a drink.

Silence.

"Say . . . is that your daughter over there?" Mu's gaze followed Kira's, drifting over to a table where a couple of guys crowed around two girls. One was young, about twelve, the other . . . that long auburn hair was hard to miss. Evi.

"You're too old for her," Mu answered gruffly, harshly.

"I'm _married_," Kira shot back, only to hear Mu's deep laughter in response. Even after all those years of laughter, Mu's laugh had yet to be worn out. It was still the same, rich and light giving.

"But, seriously," Kira caught in, laughter caught in his eyes yet not his tone. The younger man pointed over to the male group surrounding Evi. "T_hey_ aren't married.—Aren't you worried?"

Mu surprised Kira with another bout of laughter as an answer.

"She's got more of Murrue in her than just her looks," Mu grinned, just imagining what was happening. Evi's stern Murrue-face swam into view. "She'll be fine. Besides, she's already got a boyfriend back home.—Annoying little bugger. . . ." The rest of Mu's words had been reduced down into indistinguishable mumbles.

In one quick movement, the last shot of liquor in Mu's hand upended itself, the easing liquid down fast. The sharp crystal of Mu's eyes melted with the passing, they looking down at the empty glass rolling beneath his hardened fingertips.

"God . . . I'm going to need another of these when the time comes. . . ."

Kira laughed.

"Mu, you've aged."

"_What_?"

"In a good way."


	10. All Just A Dream

This one's for lithiumflower56, I couldn't get the possibility out of my head, though it did take awhile. (though I think I chopped up the idea a bit—sorry for that) And if this is a bit all over the place and odd, I'm sorry for that one as well. I literally did write this at Two in the morning.

As for this, I'll give you a hint and say that there are two possible outcomes, but I'll leave you to figure out just exactly when this happens. . . .

* * *

**X. All Just A Dream**

"Mu . . ."

"Shh—don't speak, Murrue." She shook her head slightly.

"Mu . . . I'm . . ."

"_No_!"

There she lay, pale and frail before him, lain out on the bed. Her amber eyes were wet, and so were his—though he couldn't notice. The hand that held hers tight shook, his voice coming out as only a whisper for he couldn't force anything more than that. A shaking, tearing whisper.

"No, Murrue. . . . You're not . . . It's not . . . I . . ."

She reached to touch his face, bone cold fingers lightly tracing his jaw.

". . . love you, Mu . . ." His wife surprised him pulling his head down to connect their lips, but all he could taste was her blood.

And then . . . She dropped out of the kiss.

Shocked, Mu stared down at her limp body and peaceful face. Truth hit him, and Mu couldn't possibly hold it in anymore.

Tears began to stream from his eyes, burning his skin like the acid they were as they trailed across his face. He couldn't stop the shaking that began to rack his body as his hands gripped her cold, limp, dead one for support.

It was cold. She was dead.

Who knows how long he cried. Who knows how long he sat there beside the bed. Only God knows. But to Mu then, God wasn't there.

A crashing sound then brought the man to his senses after all that blank time. He looked up only to find his young daughter standing in the doorway. She began to cry, but the look in her russet eyes remained wide and stricken as tears ran down.

He had shouted her name in surprise, as Mu felt all the blood in his body fall away, leaving him pale, as that girl began to cry harder.

Her voice came out in a choked whisper.

" . . . Mama's . . . ?"

Everything drained from him then. He couldn't breathe. Everything went black.

Flecks of thoughts and memories rushed in pieces through the blackness, dizzying all.

---

"_Mama's dead."_

_He broke the wedding frame. It could be fixed._

"_. . . love you, Mu . . ."_

_She felt so cold._

"_Have I told you how much I love you today?"_

_He held her closer._

"_I'm pregnant."_

_There was a cure. . . . It didn't work._

"_I promise nothing will happen to her, 'kay?"_

_There were tears and flowers that day._

"_I-I'm sick. . . ."_

_Roses._

"_You came back . . . Just like you said you would."_

_Her favorite._

"_Mama said you'd be gone for a long time. . . . How long is a long time, Daddy?"_

_People were there._

"_. . . especially since you're already going to be a father."_

_Everyone was there. Everybody._

"_I do."_

_Evi wore red._

"_Want to dance?"_

_Matt cried._

"_Marry me?"_

_Mu barely said a word._

"_I love you."_

_He saw it again._

_She dropped out of the kiss, falling limp beneath him. He could still taste her **blood** on his lips._

_She was dead._

_And it was **his** fault._

_---_

He woke up. Screaming.

Mu gasped for needed air though each breath seemed to sear at his lungs. He writhed himself into sitting upright, legs and arms still jerking as they stayed caught in the thin sheet around him. His eyes stared hard and wide as they wildly glanced about the darkened room.

Nothing was there. It was all the same.

And he was alone in the large bed.

Slowly his breathing came back and his body stilled, though the harsh crashing of his heart against his ribs could still be felt. His blood pulsed pounded through his ears, never letting up in its savage pounding, it seemed. With each rushed breath, Mu could feel how sticky his body was, chilled by the sweat that lay plastered over every inch of tanned skin.

Slow breath by slow rasping breath, reality returned to him. Eyes dropping to the pale sheets, he ran a thick hand through his disheveled mess of hair. "A . . . dream . . . ?"

He began to murmur, realizing just where his headache came from.

". . . Murrue . . ."

"Yes?"

Shock at the sound coursed its way through him, jolting the man straight for the second time. Though the room was dark with night, Mu could still see. He could see the doorway—open—and he could see someone silhouetted against the pale moon's glow of the kitchen window.

Murrue.

She held a mug out in her thin fingers.

"Mu, are you alright?" She cocked her head, taking a step forward, only to pause in her advance. Her voice both soothed and chilled. "What's the matter?"

But he couldn't answer her. Mu couldn't seem to get his lungs working. His chest was too tight. His mouth just hung open, crystal eyes staring back at her blankly. She slowly made her way closer, swiftly shifting her way across the cold floor.

"Mu . . . ?" Her voice faltered, slightly, the worry and care easily resounding in the soft tone. He kept himself straight in bed, mind trying to wrap around what his sense told him. As he tried to function, Murrue quickly made her way closer and sat herself on the edge of the mattress beside him.

Her eyes searched his face. Even in the darkness, she could tell how pale he was.

"Mu, what's wrong?" He kept silent, eyes staring back. Inside Murrue was shaking in fear, but to him she was still so smooth. "Please, tell me."

Nothing.

"—Did you have a bad dream, Mu? Is that what's bothering you?"

Murrue expected Mu to answer her.—It was just the thing he would do. Or, if there was no answer, he'd always at least grin back a response. Or laugh.

But there was none of that. Silently he blinked at her, not even moving. Murrue just smiled and kept on despite, turning her thoughts from him to herself as she leaned closer.

"Hmph," she grinned, biting at her lip. "Look at me, I'm a mother already. . . ." Murrue mumbled softly to herself as her fingers came up to lovingly travel Mu's pale, sweat glistening face. Her action was supposed to calm him.

But, instead, it scared her.

When her loving fingers came, Mu shirked away from her touch. He wouldn't let her touch him. The look he sent her chilled when he forced himself from the bed and backed away. His crystal eyes never left hers.

Murrue stared back, eyes wild in frozen confusion. She didn't move.

Mu realized only fleetingly how smooth his steps were, no soft limp taking his care. . . . But other things were occupying Mu's mind as he took one more step back.

He studied the woman once more.

She still sat on the bed, hands coupled around the mug cradled in her lap. And she waited. Mu took another step back, blinking his wide eyes, still trying to make sense of what he was before him.

She seemed so real. Was his mind tricking him?

His eyes scanned the room once more. Everything _looked_ the same. But was it? Then his eyes dashed across the dresser and it's always full set of frames. Odd . . . some were missing. No, some _subjects_ were missing.

Mu's dark blue eyes focused themselves on _her_ again. She still sat there.

And then he finally found his voice. It cracked.

"But—But what about Evi . . . ?—And Matt?"

". . . 'Evi'?" Her head cocked. "'Matt'?" She tried to grasp the names, but her mind pulled up another reason. Murrue sighed. "Oh, Mu . . . Did you exhaust yourself looking up baby names _again_?" She softly shook her head, light smile tracing her lips, amber eyes melting at the idea.

"What . . . ?" He blinked, deflating at her words, familiarity striking him. His head cocked to the side, eyes narrowing in thought.

Murrue grinned. He was coming back to himself. She recognized the familiar lookin his eyes.

A gentle laugh played with her voice.

"I've _told_ you. There's plenty of time for that.—I'm not showing yet, am I?" Murrue suddenly uncurled a hand from her mug to pull at her night shirt. She then cautiously touched at her stomach, trying to find the knowing bulge she didn't expect.

Mu kept silent. He kept staring as she checked herself.

Murrue sighed, not finding anything. "See? Now come sit." Glancing back up again, Murrue swallowed her gasp. She had caught his blue eyes boring into her—but they weren't as before. There was something else hidden in them then, a cold confusion or fear. But now . . . those eyes seemed to caress her gently, they stared almost as if in awe, but _more_.

Though confused, she couldn't help the light pink that tinged her cheeks in the darkness. Mu could do that to her. Her own eyes found her lap, and the mug resting there.

"You want some?" Murrue offered sweetly, holding up the cup. "It's only water."

Mu blinked himself to attention. He then silently took the mug she passed.

Though he was certainly thirsty and could feel the dryness grating his throat, Mu didn't drink. Instead he just passed the water on to rest on the bedside table beside, only to be forgotten.

He sat down beside her himself.

After nearly pushing her away, Murrue was surprised in his coming closer. And those awed eyes hadn't changed.

". . . Mu?"

He stared at her once more, but this time his gentle eyes also flickered in quizzical interest. He surprised her when he brought his own hand up to her face, closing the distance between their touch.

When his fingers caressed her cheek, they were _his_ eyes who started to dance. They started truly sparkling when he began to stroke her thick hair. And yet he said nothing to answer the burning question in _her_ eyes.

And then the words of his racing yet numb mind appeared quietly on his lips.

". . . You're . . . real . . . !"

"—Of _course_ I'm—" She froze. Even the unrivaled smile on his tanned face couldn't hide where his words were coming from. Murrue reached up and took his hand in hers, bringing it down off her face.

". . . Mu . . ." Her softer tone and questioning eyes dimmed his . "Mu . . . What kind of dream did you have?"

The emotion of his smile dropped, yet the motion kept to his face as he began to laugh. Mu began to laugh, short, empty laughs.

"I-I don't know." He grinned at the idea. But then his hand came up to palm the side of his face, feeling the sticky sweat that still held there. Any hold he had left as his eyes drained. Mu leaned forward, hands moving to hold his face as they were propped up against his knees.

Mu tried to laugh, but it came out wrong.

"I . . . I don't know. . . ."

In the darkness of their bedroom, Mu and Murrue sat together on the side of their large bed. He was leaning forward, face hidden by hands and thick hair. She sat beside him, dark hair tousled by the night as she watched him, emotion swirling in her ambered eyes.

"Mu?"

He didn't look up. He didn't move.

Murrue's hand moved to touch at his shoulder, but even the lightest touch from her hand sent him rigid and staring at her again. Her hand began traveling his stiff back reassuringly as her voice came out in soft croons. Unfortunately Murrue knew enough of unpleasant dreams to know how long it truly took to wake up from one sometimes.

"Shh, love. It was only a dream. It's over now. Everything's okay."

A shared moment of silence.

"But it was so _real_. . . ." He mumbled, deep voice quivering. Murrue's eyes widened then narrowed understandingly. It was rare for the man to be shaken, and yet there he was, scared.

She wanted to ask more, but her mind forbid the questions. Mu didn't need those. He needed something else.

Murrue's hand slipped up to cup his cheek in her thin hand. Carefully, she turned his trembling gaze onto hers. Ever more carefully, she shifted closer.

"No. . . . _This_ is real," she whispered as her lips caressed his cheek. Mu froze yet melted at her touch. Familiarity coursed through him.

Murrue climbed up to her knees on the bed only to wrap her arms around Mu's neck. She then firmly kissed him. Not on the cheek as before, but square on the lips. Affectionately, lovingly, tormentingly as she teased him.—Though she really didn't have to.

He was already lost in his reality.

The two slowly fell back onto the bed, Murrue still wrapped about his torso, pushing him down beneath her.

When their bout of kisses ended, Mu lay out on his back, Murrue curled up next to him, sleep pulling her closer away. Her body fit perfectly against his, the warmth she gave off practically intoxicating.

She stifled a yawn, nestling her head closer into his chest, soft brown hair tickling his skin. As they lay there together peacefully, sleep began to grace them both.

It was perfect.

All except one thing.—Mu was _still_ being so strangely silent. Did it all still bother him so much?

"Mu . . . ?" He could have answered her, but if he did, she didn't hear. Instead Murrue just nuzzled herself closer as his fingers lazily grazed her skin, sending chills. She smiled, utterly content. "About our first child. . . ."

He stiffened oddly beneath her touch.

_First?_ He was lost.

Murrue went on, face tainted with a heavenly smile.

"What do you think it'll be?—Boy or girl?"

"—Girl," Mu answered without thinking, voice oddly cracking. Murrue blinked at his throated response, smiling at his voice. She shifted her head so she could look up into his eyes without moving away from his steadied breathing. He was looking back down at her. Their eyes met and held.

"Girl, hm?—An _adventure_." Her amber flashed. ". . . But what makes you so sure?"

Mu blinked. Everything suddenly just seemed to click. It had seemed so . . . unreal before, but now everything was so _natural,_ so clear. An old familiar grin found his lips, deep familiar chuckle resonating from his throat.

"How am I so sure?" His eyebrows arched, leaving Mu to peer down at her, condescending laugh to the blue. "I just am."

He softly kissed at her fingers, bringing them to his lips from the hand he still held them in from before. Murrue snuggled closer.

Peaceful sleep took them both away.

Except it was time for another day.

* * *

**AN**: yeah, I know, Mu's a bit out of it (and Murrue). I warned you this would be odd, right? 


	11. Isolation

I'm back! Sorry, I had to get certain _other_ things from my system before I could finish this. I wanted this to be done a few days ago, but I couldn't get a few scenes right. I hope his flows okay. I meant to include Marie a lot in this one, but . . . She's there is spirit at least! The next one, I promise I'll give her a bigger part.—Her and Evi and Matt.

But until then, I leave you with an odd story I thought up with a fever racking this brain of mine. I hope this is okay—and that it works, even with Mu and Murrue being a bit off the mark character-wise. . . .

* * *

**XI. Isolation**

It buzzed.

That annoying clock buzzed its annoying alarm and no matter how annoying that clock became, it didn't change the fact it was time to wake up. Murrue opened up one eye, then two, and with her deep amber eyes, she just stared. The clock that buzzed shone with the time: 6:30.

With a huff Murrue forced her arm up and out of the covers to silence it. She had to stretch because of the heavy deadweight in the bed with her. Mu was practically laying atop her, his thick body pressing hers down with his immovable arms holding her in place. Murrue giggled with what little breath she had, but struggled to hold it in. If this was any _other_ situation, she knew Mu would be all over her in a different kind of way—a way she would have thoroughly enjoyed. But _now_, with him fast asleep and completely dead to the world . . . Let's just say Murrue _didn't_ like the idea of being crushed by the sheer weight of her lover.

She pulled an arm free and used it to push back some of the hair that had fallen before her face.

"Mu," she whispered quietly, jostling him a bit. "Mu. . . . Wake up."

But he didn't wake. Murrue could've guessed that—There were always days where it could take absolutely forever to wake him up. But Murrue didn't have forever, she didn't even want to try.

"Mu . . . C'mon, you gotta move. . . . Please wake up. . . ."

She sighed. There was no way that would ever work. She was stuck. Stuck to forever suffocate beneath him.

With a deep groan Murrue found the strength to grab at Mu's thick shoulders and push him far enough for her to wriggle free. Just as she was about to slide from the sheet prison, Murrue found herself being pulled back in.

Mu's arms had closed tightly about her body and were then bringing her closer, only stopping in their attack when she was held close and tight up against him. Murrue caught a glance of one of Mu's cocky, satisfied grins though his eyes were closed and she found herself with a wry smile of her own.

He'd been awake the entire time.

"Mu!" She shifted for the chance he'd let up, but he just held her in place as he nuzzled himself closer to lose himself in her hair.

"No . . . Stay . . ." He murmured into her ear, his speech slurred due to how he was still only half-awake. His hot breath tickled as it sent stray strands of hair away. "Call in . . ." He slurred, still groggy as he nestled them both deeper into the bed. "Call in 'n tell 'em I'm not feeling well. . . . Hmm."

"Mu, please—" Murrue moaned in annoyance as she went to push him away once more. But then her hands fell across and she froze, startled gasp escaping her. At her gasp, his finally eyes opened, the deep blue staring back hard.

"What?" He asked, concerned. Sleep now gone from his voice. But his eyes still were dimmed.

But Murrue didn't answer him. She was too busy running her fingers over his face. With each touch, her face seemed to fall. With each fallen feature, her fingers moved quicker.

"Oh, no . . ." Murrue couldn't believe it. There was no doubting the dampening sweat stuck to his skin or the heat pulsating from every part of him.

Something worse.

"What?" Mu urged, annoyed at her silence.

"Mu . . . you're . . . you're sick. . . ."

"_That's_ all you're worried about?" He asked, part incredulous. Mu's expressive eyes only shone with half their power, dimmed and flat. Murrue noticed easily. But, in his half-state, Mu rolled his flat eyes, heaved a large sigh and threw himself back into the bed. "Murrue, you had me worried something was _actually_ wrong."

Mu's closed eyes stayed heavy as he settled himself back beneath her stare, hard smile adorning his face. "Besides, it's _impossible_," he murmured. His voice was hard but seemingly breathless and he slurred only a bit with his words. "I don't get sick.—_you_ get sick."

Murrue flinched, biting her lip at his words. They were unknowingly harsh, the truth ripping through her. She was still mentally recovering from her brush with death a bit more than nine months before and then there was the fact that she almost bled out when delivering Marie, their new baby girl. Murrue was still pained with the idea that her personal weakness almost . . .

But she had to remind herself that it wasn't Mu, but Mu's _fever_ talking. If he were himself, he'd never say something like that. He'd never even think of it. She just had to remind herself of that fact.

"You may be right," Murrue shot back, voice weakly strained. She regained her strength in due time. "—But that doesn't change the fact that you've still got a fever."

"I don't have a fever," he growled back, openly awake once more. His hand enclosed itself assuring-ly around her wrist. "I'm _not_ sick."

Then, he changed and his hard blue eyes turned to ones pleading, whimpering almost. "_But_ . . . could you still call me in so we can finish what I started?"

Murrue raised an eyebrow at Mu's obvious advance and childish plea, his grip on her wrist loosening up with affection. But Murrue just used the open hold to wrench her arm away.

With a huff, the ex-Captain left the bedroom leaving the ex-Commander to scowl alone.

-----

"Well, this proves it," Murrue muttered glancing between the thermometer and Mu's dimmed face. "You're a hundred percent sick—fever and everything. . . ." She couldn't help it, a smile just made its way to her face. She grinned, knowing full well what that meant.

"You're sure not going to like it, hm?" She subtly teased. "—To stay here and get some much needed rest 'til you're better?"

Mu went to struggle himself out from beneath the sheets, but Murrue's hand kept him down.

"And how long is that?"

"You're a strong man. You wont be sick for very long." Murrue grinned at how his face fell at how she twisted the answer. She could see in his eyes how much he wanted to get up—her hand still held him down.

Mu's own hand drifted from beneath the covers to discreetly encircle hers. His fingers began to play with their new found prey as he looked up at her.

"Right. . . . Especially with you watching over me. . . ."

"Yes, glad you understand," Murrue smiled, Mu's returned grin sharing the same quality of winning. Yet hers seemed more dangerous.

"—And that's exactly why, for the next day or two, you're not going to leave this room if I can help it."

"_What_?" That grinning smirk of accomplishment slid off his face, eyes widening as he forced his way sitting up.

"Oh, and no Evi, Matt or Marie for you either." Mu was stunned, gaping up at Murrue's controlled face. She dropped the bomb like it meant _nothing_. Hecould see the young laughter in her face and the voice she struggled to keep stern. "I guess I'll make them stay out of here 'til you're better, as well."

"But—. . . But _why_!"

Murrue turned to him, to face him quite fully. The change made Mu swallow his next childish plea. The playful laughter of her eyes was replaced by smooth lines of worry, lines creasing her beauteous face

"Mu . . . if you're sick then—" He rolled his eyes, sliding himself back between the sheets as he lazily rattled off something heard too many times to forget.

"'If the kid gets sick the parent is fine, but if the parent gets sick, the kid gets sick.' I know the logic already, Murrue."

At his blatant attitude, her only response was the deadly narrowing of her eyes.

"Then you should know how _dangerous_ it would be if _any_ of our children got sick. I didn't think we'd have to go over this, Mu. We brought Marie home a _month_ ago!"

"Six weeks."

"—Does it change anything?"

Murrue's quick tone and sharp tongue silenced Mu that easily. Her voice was still one of a Captain—even after all those years. And she was right. His health was nothing to worry about, but their children—their newborn daughter . . .

"_Mu_? Does it change anything?" She asked again, somehow even sterner and deadlier than before.

". . . No," he answered flatly, jaw clenched tight at the idea. Mu's dark eyes had fixated themselves on the wall across, completely missing the woman standing strong above him.

But her hard face melted, soft smile glowing warmly. A hand second-naturedly came up to drift across his face, bringing his gaze to meet with hers.

"Oh, Mu . . ."

Murrue leaned slowly forward, brushing her lips chastely across his brow, beyond the pushed back hair.

"You need to get better," she whispered. "Now, I'll be right back, if you need me. But if you don't . . ."

"Of course I'll need you." He grinned, despite the situation. His eyes stayed dim. "I'm 'sick', right?"

"Mu, take a shower," Murrue murmured quietly, pulling away with a sigh. "And then, after that, you can get some sleep.—Rest is what strengthens your body, you know. If you get enough, you'll be all better before you know it."

"But I don't need it.—I'm not sick," he grumbled. "I'm not even _tired_."

Her only answer was just a soft shake of her head, both understanding yet mocking. She left the bedroom

Five minutes later, Murrue checked in on him and left quietly, soft grin melded to her face.

Mu was sleeping.

-----

That day passed, somehow without incident. Mu was called in sick and Murrue was left with the task of explaining to the children why exactly, though he was home, they couldn't go see their father.

It took awhile.

But . . . once everything had died down and peace settled in, Marie was asleep, Matt and Evi off to play elsewhere.

Murrue was left to sit alone at the kitchen table. Her eyes bore into the untouched coffee mug before her, though her thin fingers tightly entwined around it. She sat there, never moving, as time marched on past, leaving her alone.

At one points the thoughts became so much, her hand began to shake, her body swept up in the poisonous thoughts of her wandering mind.

Mu was such a strong person. He was right before. . . . He wasn't the type to get sick, _she_ was. Yet there he was, succumbing to a fever.

She probably wouldn't have worried so much, but if the fever was stong enough to take down Mu, exactly how strong was it? Against a six year old, three year old and a seven _week_ old, how strong could that fever be?

But . . . There were other possibilities . . .

Murrue recalled with a chill the first time she went to a doctor complaining of a high fever. She went in with a fever and came out with a deadly diagnostic.

It was the starting symptom to what almost killed . . .—What if Mu . . .

_No_! Dr. Addison had _assured_ her that there was no way it could be passed.—There was _no_ way!

. . . But . . .

The time came to start dinner, but Murrue didn't get up from her seat at the table. She kept her place as time raged on. It was only after Matt came up complaining of hunger that she even realized the sun had gone down.

Dinner was served late that evening.

-----

Mu opened his dark, dimmed eyes and looked with a half-attention out onto the street and houses below. A car drove by, its soft hum nothing to his muffled ears as he leaned hard over the window sill, arms having a hard time keeping his heavy head up.

A strong breeze blew in from outside, it's thick hot air doing nothing but making Mu feel the sweat even more. His eyes closed as another breeze came.

Then the door to the room opened—unnoticed to Mu. He was too busy leaning on the window sill to notice her approach—or her talking, or her shaking his shoulder. He only realized Murrue was in the room when she grabbed his arm and forced the man around. Through lidded eyes, Mu could just make out the glare of her eyes.

"Mu! What are you doing with the window _open_? It's _freezing_!"

She was shivering.

"What . . . ? It's just . . . so _hot_ in here. . . ."

"Mu . . ." Murrue's hand flew to his face, easily feeling the heat as he leaned into her icy fingers. "Mu, you're burning up!—Come on, bed. Now. I think your fever's actually _worse_ than this morning—never mind about yesterday!"

"What? . . . What are you talking about, Murrue?" Mu's strong words kept slightly slurred as Murrue gently forced him around the room to bed. Pushing him down to sit on the mattress was hard, but getting the fevered man to lie down was simple.

Murrue didn't like the feeling of being able to push Mu around so easily, it sent an awkward chill straight through her body as she sat herself down on the edge.

Even completely 'out of it' as he was, Mu found his fingers gently playing with hers, dimmed eyes smiling up.

"You're so . . . _beautiful_, Murrue," he mumbled, mouth curving. Murrue just took in her breath, fingers fumbling with the medicine bottle.

"Yes, of course I am," she rattled back, finally getting it open. Mu only scowled.

"I _mean_ it."

"_Medicine_." Murrue forced the small cup of thick pink liquid into Mu's face, bypassing his thick hands. She shook the liquid before his eyes. After twisting up his face, tongue out an everything, Mu downed the medicine without another word but a whole lot of faces. Murrue smirked.

"I see you've accepted the fact you're really sick, hm?"

"No, I just want to get out of this damn room. . . ." He muttered.

"None of us like this arrangement, you know—Not you, not me, not Evi or Matt, and Marie's missing being held by her father." Murrue's face fell. "But we can't have them get sick. You should know that."

"Yeah, I know, but . . . I just _hate_ being pent up in some room. . . . You should know that." He cracked a grin, dimmed eyes forcing a flicker of a dance through the blue. Murrue smiled.

"I do know." She leaned closer, gently pressing her lips to his.

". . . And what does that mean?" He asked as she began to leave.

"Mu, I love you. Get better."

He watched her leave, and once she left, Mu was left in the deafening quiet of an empty room where only his deep uneven breathing could be heard. But after awhile, the fever medicine began to take over, closing his mind out to all else but sleep.

And so sleep came.

He slept for a bit more of the day. When he woke up, it was around Four or so in the afternoon, but sleeping the day away was nothing.—How clearer he felt was everything.

Mu could even suffer a grin by then.

Mu felt so much better he pushed himself sitting in the bed, propping his back up with pillows. He glanced at the clock again, foot already setting the pace. He had no idea when Murrue had come in last so he didn't know when she'd come visit again—and there was no way he'd get up and go out. Even if he felt up to it, Murrue would be so angry. . . . Marie was still so young.

Another sigh and Mu let go a small cry of annoyance. True he had no patience, but nobody needed to _prove_ the fact.

Eyes scanning the bedroom, Mu's eyes rested on a thick book placed neatly on the small table beside. He eyed it hungrily. Entertaining or not, a book could pass the time away—something he desperately needed.

Without another second for thought, Mu swiped the large book from its place and began to absent-mindedly flip through the pages. A small bookmark fell out, resting in his lap. Nothing special, just a slip of paper—though it fell from near the end. Shrugging off his mistake, Mu glanced at the clock once more.

Less than two minutes had rolled by since the last time he checked.

Finally the bedridden man decided upon just reading the book in his hands—nothing better to do. But he wasn't looking forward to just plainly reading.

That was until Mu's blue eyes flashed across the title: _The Heart's Five of Spades_. . . .

Intrigued, yet fearing, for what lay ahead beneath the cover, Mu took one last deep breath before plunging in and reading the first page.

The twenty pages after that flew right on by. Mu took a short break to glance at the clock. Five. So far the story was interesting, but mostly Mu was thankful that so far it seemed like a much different type of book than the title suggested. . . . He could breathe a sigh of relief. He had even liked the mysterious book so far.

But when Murrue finally walked through the bedroom door, Mu found himself shifting the book beneath the covers, though he himself didn't understand why.

Murrue came in, smile on her face brightening even more at the sight of him awake and alert, sitting up in bed.

"You're awake.—I'm surprised you didn't try to sneak out of here . . ."

"That's only because if I _did_ try, you'd have my hide for it and I'd probably never leave this room _again_," Mu shot back defiantly from his place in bed.

"Ah, you've learned your place, I see," Murrue muttered with a smirk.

"Ah, but have you learned _yours_?" He grinned, eyes flashing, voice tipping too condescendingly for tolerance. When Murrue walked close enough, Mu's thick hands grabbed the woman's waist, dragging her down. "You should be here, beside me, more often, hm?"

His best grin sparkled in his eyes as he moved in to kiss her blushing face. What he received was a hand in his own face, pushing back. Murrue's tired voice pierced through his dazed consciousness.

"No, Mu, not with three kids, unfortunately. . . ." She pushed her self from the bed and his embrace, sternly smoothing out any wrinkles his hold took to her shirt. His face fell with ever flick of her hands. After being alone most of the little time he was awake, Mu inwardly crumbled from his wife's rejection.

His over-the-top pout brought giggles from her at least.

"Mu, you're such a child," she sighed. Murrue glanced down at the two pills she still kept held tight in her hand. "Hmm, maybe I should give you children's medicine instead . . .—I found the pills. Or do you want the liquid?"

"Give me that," Mu huffed, swiping the pills from her and easily popping them into his mouth. "See? _Adult_ strength."

Murrue shook her head, smile playing with her lips.

"No, you just don't want to drink that stuff from before. If that's not childish, I don't know what would be. . . ."

Mu's response: a sensible stick of his tongue. Murrue rolled her dark, ambered eyes.

"And you'd better watch out, Mu. This one might make you tired." He wanted to say something, but he had nothing. In the empty silence, all he did was take advantage of the stillness and stole a kiss.

Murrue flushed.

"_Hey_!" Mu just shrugged.

"What? All's fair in love and war."

"Yes, but you're still _sick_, Mu!"

"Yeah, but I'm not _contagious_," he grumbled, shifting back into the bed, scowl deep set into his face. Sitting beneath the covers, there the man sat, thick arms crossed childishly against his chest.

It didn't matter to Murrue, all she did was fight to keep her smiles to herself.—she was losing. She smiled softly, hardly stifling a yawn.

Murrue stretched.

"God, I'm so _tired_," she mumbled. "—Taking care of the four of you is _so_ exhausting. . . . Do you think I have time to take a hot shower? Marie's asleep, and Matt and Evi are doing something together in their room—a fort I think. . . . Now I'll have to clean that up too. . . ."

Mu stared at his wife. Clear eyes finally noticing. Her usually dark pristine hair seemed heavy and out of place, her amber eyes were weighted with sleep and emotion, soft rings and creases to measure about her face. In fact, Murrue's whole body was visibly creaking, weakened and stretched.

Mu sighed, staring up at his wife. It was then she noticed his hot gaze.

"_What_?"

"Murrue . . . Take your shower—take a nice long hot one. . . . You definitely deserve it."

She sent him a smile, soft and without words she thanked him. A short stretch and an even shorter kiss later, Mu watched as the bathroom door slowly closed.

The shower started, he could hear it's rushing metronome, and with an unmistakable grin, he imagined Murrue in it, hot under the water's fall.

Shaking out the steaming images from his mind, Mu struggled to go back to the book open in his lap.

It was hard to concentrate on the words—other words filled his mind instead.

He wanted so much to get up and walk around—in fact, his legs ached with something to do, an ache too hard to ignore—but Mu knew that if Murrue caught him, he'd have to stay in bed even _longer_, so The longer he didn't move now meant the faster he'd be up and out. He'd satisfy Murrue till then. She was worried.

Mu knew, regretfully for his pride, that if it was Murrue who was sick in bed, _he'd_ be a lot more over the top than she. He'd never want to leave her side, but then there were the three kids to worry about as well. . . . Mu was impressed at how Murrue was handling it all, balancing him and them, making sure the entire situation didn't get any worse—which must have been difficult seeing as how he was being such the little brat in return. . . .

Mu satisfied himself with the book and his bed. Though he didn't try to complain too often to himself about the arrangement. But, even after picking up the book and starting it, Mu's find couldn't focus on the task.

Sleep began to slowly overtake him. And when the need pressed down upon his eyes, Mu didn't fight it. He let it easily consume him.

Not long had passed until a the sound of a door awakened him, eyes opening a crack.

". . . Mmm . . . ?"

"Daddy?"

"Shh! Mattie, not so loud!"

"Guys . . . ?" His dimmed eyes struggled to open farther. The figures were right beside the bed by then. Their voices rang painfully through his head.

"Daddy!"

"Feel better?"

"Are you still hot?"

"Does your head hurt?"

"Did you hit it?"

"Are you okay?"

"Are you po—poi— . . . po-ee-so-nous?—Is that why Mama wont let us see you?"

"Whoa, whoa . . ." Mu forced out, the rolling grumbles his body so wanted to give tossed away with awakening realization. "Hold on there. . . . What are you two _doing_ here?"

"Mama said you're sick."

"And you can't come out."

"We miss you."

"So we're here to see you."

"You know, I don't think your Mama wants you in here. . . ." His eyes fearfully shifted towards the bathroom door. Still closed. He could still hear the shower running.

"But we got you soup!" Evi piped up, holding up a large white bowl in her hands. Matt took over the talking, in that soft small voice of his.

"And soup makes you better, right? That's what Mama says when she makes it for you. We're having soup too, so we cant get sick like you." And Evi thrust the white bowl into Mu's thick hands.

For a moment, he looked into the bowl. Anybody could tell how much the two children worked hard for it. He could tell by the feel of it in his hands how cold the soup was. He could tell by how chunky looking a regular broth-like soup looked that it was one of those condensed soup deals—where you add water. Evi and Matt kind of forgot that crucial step.

The two children watched intently as Mu stared into the bowl.

Mu didn't know whether it was the sickness, them or both, but his head began to hurt, world all fuzzy as he palmed his face.

"I think you're missing the point. . . ." He mumbled. But Evi took his display of sickness into her thoughts and grinned.

"You're getting better right?—Now that we brought you this?" Mu glanced up, paled face smiling back, stomach squirming uneasily in his gut.

"Thanks, you guys . . . so much.—I can feel myself getter better already."

"Really?" That made them light up. Mu grinned, then froze.

The soft background hum of Murrue's shower had stopped.

"Yeah, but you gotta keep this as our little secret, okay? Don't tell Mama."

"We wont," they answered—in unison, grinning all the way.

"Now, go on." He ushered them off, not relaxing until the two had left the room, door closed tightly behind them. Stomach still unsettled, Mu then frantically began to search about the room with his eyes for any place he could hide the bowl. If Murrue saw it . . .

Finally 'under the bed' was decided, so, Mu, for the first time in two days or so, climbed out of his warm inviting covers only to crawl upon the floor to shift the chunky, cold soup beneath and into the shadows. With that done, Mu forced himself back into bed, climbing and creaking as he slid into the returning warmth.

Laying down hadn't felt so good in a long while.

But he had chosen his moment of 'escape' wisely, for practically a few seconds later, the bathroom door opened, revealing the one and only Murrue

Mu quickly shut his eyes, and let his head droop. Part of him wanted to snore, but what could possibly be more obvious than _that_.

Murrue stepped out of the bathroom, hair wet, body wrapped away only by a robe.Shetook in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the unique scent of their bedroom. As much as she tried, she could never place what exactly calmed her so much about the place. But after spending way too much time in the shower, her body was practically steaming, soft skin feeling odd when against the smooth robe Mu had given her as a previous gift. Murrue's auburn hair was even darker with the water soaked through it, little tendrils of hair falling oddly into her face, but she didn't bother to tuck them away. She was too busy standing there.

Mu was right. A long hot shower did do her some good. It washed everything away that had seemed to be weighing her down, the stress from before gone though a feather lightness remained. All of her fried nerves seemed almost repaired and Murrue felt ready to face the world again.

Yep, Mu was right.

Mu was still in their bed, tucked up nicely in the pale sheets, asleep. She smiled at the sight. He was always so cute when he was sleeping.

Murrue carefully shifted forward across the floor, tip-toe-ing her way closer. Her fingers moved to sweep away a curl of golden hair oddly hanging across his face, but she didn't dare wake him. He needed his rest, after all. Deciding to return only later, Murrue made to shift her way silently out of the room, but soft, recognizable mumbles stopped her in her tracks.

"Mmm . . . Murrue . . . ?"

Turning around, her amber eyes easily lit up when she saw two slivers of blue gazing up at her from the bed.

"So you're awake. . . . It's about time for dinner, so I should go make that. . . . Do you want soup? . . . Again?"

His mind trailed back to what he'd slid beneath the bed . . .

". . . Yeah, soup's fine," he grinned.

-----

Murrue gazed down at the thermometer in one hand, her other still plastered to his forehead. That hand moved around, trying to find the heat elsewhere on him as he sat waiting, bouncing in his seat desperately like a child.

"_Murrue_ . . ."

Her face twisted. She couldn't find that boiling heat. The thermometer was right.

"Hmph. Fever's really gone.—And it's been eighteen hours since the last one, so that means it's _really, _reallygone . . .—Oh, and you've been taking medicine?"

"Against my will, yes."

"Hmmm . . ." His confident grin faltered at the sudden realization she might not actually consent. Mu took on a new approach. A pleading, pouting approach.

"Aw, c'mon, _Murrue_," he whined. ". . . It's been _three_ days. . . ."

"Um . . ." She bit at her lip, Murrue trying hard to search her mind for the answer. But the only one to come up was the most simple, yet problematic.

Sigh. Roll of her eyes. ". . . Fine. . . ."

He blinked back surprise.

"I—I can _go_?"

"Yes, yes," she smiled, happy sigh escaping her lips. "Yes, Mu, you can go."

His face lit up so fast, one wouldn't have been able to tell whether he was a kid or a father.—Mu was still and always both. Yet, it took her as a complete surprise as he pulled her lips to his, practically crushing them with hurried force.

"I love you," was all he was able to mutter before wrenching himself away, off to fly about the room, haphazardly pulling on a shirt at least.

He ran out of the room. Murrue was left behind to softly laugh. She could hear his voice coming from beyond the room, muffled from the door closing, but easily upbeat and laughing. With a soft shake of her head, Murrue stood up and began to follow him out.

When she made it to the doorway, somehow she wasn't surprised to see Mu already with young Marie tucked safely in his arms.—Evi and Matt were no where to be seen. Even from across the room, Murrue could see the unavoidable sparkling of Mu's cerulean eyes and she could hear the undeniable laughter in every breath from his lips as he spoke to their youngest daughter. It was obvious to see, even the air about Mu was dancing with his contagious delight.

"I'm so glad to get out of there," he grinned, glaring up to Murrue, Marie still held lovingly in his arms. Murrue had to wonder whether he'd ever let the girl go.

"I can tell. . . ."

"You know, Murrue . . ." Glancing up, his tanned face split into a grin, one of those roguish ones she could always count on him for. "You keeping me here these three days means but one thing. Do you want to guess what?"

She didn't want to guess. Her face twisted at thoughts alone. She sighed, exasperated already.

"What, Mu?" His grin grew even larger.

"You now owe me three more days of calling me in sick, so I can spend 'em all home with all you guys."

Murrue's face immediately darkened at his words, amber eyes flickering flames as her hands slowly but surely traveled to her hips.

"But that means you wont go back to work until next week."

He grinned a simple, full grin in response, dark eyes flashing.

"Well, that's the idea."

"Mu, I don't think—Oh. . . ." She paused. There before her stood the two other children of which their lives also revolved around. Evi and Matt stood there, silent, but easily half-awake.

Murrue kept on smiling as she bent down to their level. Mu watched and smiled.

"Good morning you two. Sleep well?"

Matt's crystal eyes glanced over to Evi, Evi's russet eyes dropping to the floor. The six year old's voice came out, slurred with sleep.

"Mama . . . Mattie and I didn't sleep too much. We kept fighting over the window in our room. He said it was really hot, but I was shivering the whole time. . . ."

Mu was far enough away that hedidn't hear the young girl's testimony, but Murrue sure did, eyes widening uncontrollably. When her hands flew to both her children's faces . . . Mu still didn't notice.

But when Murrue stood up, slowly brining herself to full height, the older man shivered. The chill didn't come from the air but from Murrue's piercing stare.

Immediately he swallowed.

Murrue's heated eyes narrowed even more, hard voice coming out as icy tendrils of fire with each searing word. He began to inch away, Marie still in his arms.

"_Mu_ . . . Would you care to tell me _how_ and _why_ our _two_ children have the same _fever_ _you_ did!"

"Uh . . ." Mu tried on his best cracked, reassuring grin, but his eyes clearly avoided the woman before them, focusing instead in the far corner. As his thick hand went to rub at his neck, Mu swallowed again. "Um. . . ."

His voice quickly lost all its power, eventually coming out in a strangled squeak, unheard of from the man. It was followed by off swallows of 'laughter'.

" . . . Sicknesses come in threes?"

"_MU_!"


	12. Photograph

As requested by lithiumxflower back in November '05. . . nine or ten _months_ ago (!) Sorry. . . She wanted something to show Mu and Murrue's alone time together catching up on things he'd missed (and other things) after those months away. I think I only wrote _half_ of what she wanted. . . . For that, I apologize, again.

I could never find time to put this in the story, though I always wanted to. So, now, here it is.—a 'little' late, a 'little' ragged about the edges, a 'little' bit hard to write.

PS: Sorry Mu's so off. . . . oh, and Murrue, too. They're always 'off', but this time is more than usual.

--------------------------------------------------

**XII. Photograph**

In the dark, she nuzzled up to him, holding him gently, arms soft but gripping as if never to let go. But at the moment, her peaceful breaths against his skin, her reassuring hold, her close warmth . . . it was doing nothing to him—except keeping him awake.

Mu gazed up at the ceiling, eyes drifting across the darkness as images shifted their way through the shadows. Murrue pushed herself closer to him, a soft murmur slipping from her dreams. The soft smile on her face told him what she was dreaming of. Usually that'd bring a smile to his own face, but that night he just shifted away, putting some small distance between them again.

Mu sat in the darkness wondering. Why did his body inch away when he wanted so much to just hold her back? It was what he'd been dreaming of since that day he left her, eleven months before. Just the thought of her was enough to keep him going.

Murrue found her way closer again.

Mu had to get up. His throat was dry.

Ever so carefully, Mu peeled back the covers, shifting away from Murrue just slow enough not to wake her. Carefully he picked himself out of the sheets, even more so when it came to untangling himself from Murrue's arms. When free, he stood himself up, teetering a bit with the sure stiffness of his leg. Trying to quiet the soft curses in his mind, Mu turned back around, eyes lazily drifting over the bed with its mess of pale sheets all wrapped about the woman nestled sweetly in their embrace.

Mu felt his chest clench and lungs close in as he looked at her. Something kept bubbling up deep inside that made him want to hold his breath and yet take it all in at the same time. He didn't understand it with her, not at all . . . how she made him feel, but he let it all out, in a low, slow sigh.

With a rough jerk of fingers through his thick hair, Mu steadied himself onto his feet and began the long stride to the bathroom. Tap water could do for how dry his mouth was—Mu didn't feel like going into the kitchen, he didn't feel like leaving the dark room.

But even with how restless he was, Mu still felt how heavily plain sleep weighed him down. He was practically dragging himself.

Mu paused and stretched, pulling his arms above his head until his body begged for a groan of release. He had to stifle it, what with Murrue being asleep beside him.

His cobalt eyes flickered through the darkness, easily seeing everything before him. The windowsill was dark, for there was no moon, but one could see patches of stars twinkling darkly. The clock on the bedside table read 4:03.

Another sigh. This time a regular one.

He couldn't sleep. Since he'd come home the week before, he could never sleep. He guessed that, simply, he was afraid—Afraid that if he closed his eyes, even for a moment . . . that it would all go away. And he couldn't have that. Not again. And him knowing all that wasn't helping with his sleep.

As he stood right outside the bathroom door, staring at it, Mu numbly changed his decision, deciding on simple coffee instead. It gave him something to do, and it would keep him awake.

Mu moved to walk out, back turned towards the bed, but even in his best efforts, he stumbled, falling fast towards the floor. He caught himself early by grabbing onto the dresser. With a stifled moan, Mu pushed himself back to safety, silent chuckle to his face. His leg was so . . .

Something caught his eye, something on the floor that wasn't there before. It was small and square—something like a paper, more like a picture. Even with his sharp eyes, Mu couldn't make out the subject. Reaching down, using the sturdy dresser as a steady, he bent to pick it up.

Seeing exactly what it was, a smile reached his face, even with how his heart began to plummet.

It was a photograph. A family portrait of sorts. There Murrue stood, on the front step. The nice summer dress she wore he could see ripple in a stationary breeze, one arm up to push away her thick hair from her eyes, and in the other arm, fairly newborn Matthew was cradled, softly sleeping. Little Evi stood beside, grinning from ear to ear, sweet and cute, tips of her dirty blond hair flipping the winds.

It was a family portrait.

And he wasn't in it.

Mu wasn't there. 'Daddy' wasn't there.

Part of him just wanted to crush the photograph—It would have been easy. It was just lying in his open hand after all. All he needed to do was make a fist. Part of him wanted to do it, but the other half stopped him.

A photo was a piece of time, frozen in its place. Photos may fade, but memories fade faster—and that particular print was a memory he didn't have. Who was to say what it meant to Evi or Matt? Or even Murrue?

Whatever memory it was, he knew it was one without him in it. And they looked so _happy_ in that photograph. . . .

Mu forced himself to stifle a cough, the thin picture falling from his hand and wafting slowly to the floor once more. He took a deep breath, shaking his head at how much better he felt—just because he wasn't looking at it.

Was he really that simple?

He reminded himself of the coffee he wanted and quickly started on his way once more, shifting through the shadows. He was just at the door, he had it open a crack. He was just about to open it and be _free_.

Free to wallow in his sleeplessness over a cooling mug of coffee.

Something stopped him, though. Mu couldn't get the thought out of his head. Twisting around a bit, his darkened eyes saw the photo resting on the ground again.

With a sigh and a silent chuckle, Mu shook his head, grinning as he pushed the door closed and plodded back over to the bed.

_"Curiosity may have killed the cat, but not before the cat killed curiosity."_

He leaned down to grab the discarded photograph, but was unable to keep in the painful groan that escaped him. Mu froze, staring across the bed. Murrue's body shifted slightly, but she stayed twisted deep within the sheets.

Mu turned back to the picture in his hand, eyes flicking over it just as before. Nothing had changed. But then his eyes drifted.

The dresser Mu had clung onto to keep from falling _was_ different. The pictures and their picture frames were all pushed to one side, piled on top of one another, all to make room for the big box—and the big book—resting beside them. His eyes studied the new mass carefully and cautiously, until, suddenly, recognition came. Mu swiftly dove into the box, his thick hand easily finding its prey.

It was another picture—this time of some pant leg and another skirt hem. Mu remembered that one. Murrue's birthday—they had trusted teeny-tiny Evi with the picture of husband and wife. Of course, every shot from that day was either blurry or _completely_ off the mark. Eyes widening at his find, Mu grabbed deep into the box again, grinning in the dark when he pulled out _another_ shoes picture.

It was a box of photographs.

The clock read 4:17.

------

Her closed eyes fluttered, stirring as she slowly made the long transition out of slumber. She shifted, only to bring herself deeper into the confines of the bed as her hand lightly traveled the sheet beside her, trying to find what it knew to be there.

But it wasn't there.

Murrue's eyes shot open, immediately taking in the darkness of their bedroom in the night and the _emptiness_ of the pale sheets beside her. Holding down the scream she could already feel welling up inside her, Murrue pushed herself up to see from a different angle.—No, their bed was still empty.

She felt on the verge of panicking, looking all around, when finally, her eyes caught it. Across the rest of the empty bed and behind the tiny mountains where the sheets rolled, Murrue finally caught glance of a patch of sleep-tousled, completely unruly, golden waves. Expecting to feel relieved, Murrue wasn't, and instead caught her breath as she suddenly scrambled closer.

"_Mu_! Are you o—Oh . . ." Her wide eyes took in the scene.

"Hm?" His head turned. "Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?" His wide eyes puppied back, innocent. Just him sitting there, head cocked, face inquisitively blank like nothing was ever wrong . . .

Already in the twenty seconds she had been awake, Mu had scared her enough so that every muscle in her body had gone stiff—that she had been so tense . . . it tired her. She collapsed onto her stomach on the bed, her chin hanging off just enough to rest on his shoulder. He'd sat himself straight up again just so she could. Murrue let out a sigh.

"Mu, what are you _doing_?"

"Oh, I, ah, found these, and . . . I was looking at them." He smiled his 'I-didn't-do-it' kiddie smile and, with hands stuffed, motioned to the complete mess of scattered photographs laying about his legs in a huge, scattered _pool_. The up-ended box lay thrown empty to the side, forgotten.

Seeing her neatly handwritten, labeled box, Murrue smiled, though sleep still laced her features.

"Oh, _those_ pictures. . . . I remember them. . . . I had started a scrapbook of sorts—more like a photo album, I guess, back when we were just married. You don't kow 'cause I never told you. I kept it pretty up to date actually. Then you left. And I stopped." Mu's eyes flickered, hearing the dimness of her voice. But then she smiled. It was a real smile, but an empty one. "But since you've come back, I've been wanting to finish it—so I could start another one."

"Oh, _really_?" Mu raised his eyebrows, flashing an inquisitive smirk in his wife's direction.

"Yes. _Really_. You need to take care of them," she shot back. Murrue opened her mouth to say something else grinning, but her breath caught tightly in her chest, it all coming out in a soft gasp. Mu quickly turned his face to study hers.

"Murrue?"

In the darkness, Mu could easily make out the focused stare of his wife's ambered eyes. Those eyes twisted. Murrue slowly reached out beyond the bed, long, pale arm closing the distance between his hand and hers. Her voice came out in an awed mutter.

"I mean . . . they're _memories_, right . . . ?" Her thin hand closed over the photograph that once rested within Mu's tight grip. Her awed mutter turned to a whisper. "I remember this. . . . This day . . ."

The dark blue of Mu's intense eyes never left Murrue's face. He could see the reminiscent creases of her face, the embers of her eyes. He had the urge to say something then, to slip in a joke and laugh, but his mind kept him from it. It was _that_ photograph. The portrait . . . The one without him.

"I remember this day," Murrue mumbled, smiling—wryly. "Evi was crying. . . . No—First she was _so_ happy, you wouldn't believe. It was her birthday. We always took a family picture on birthdays, so I wanted to keep that tradition—keep something the same. I had called up the 'camera man' from down the street. He was going to come and take our picture, so I told Evi to get into her best dress. That way she'd look nice for the picture, right? . . . But, the tradition was a _family_ picture. She thought you'd come home."

Mu's teeth clenched, air catching in his mouth. He didn't need to hear any more. He could already figure it out.

But Murrue wouldn't give him the luxury of stopping. Her eyes were still focused on the picture.

"I remember . . . Evi searched all over the house, ecstatic with the thought that you were just hiding.—that you were going to surprise her, coming back as a gift. . . . She looked . . . for an _hour_, I think? When she finally figured out you weren't home—that you weren't _going_ to be—she refused to be in any picture. 'Not without Daddy,' she kept saying. You helped raise a stubborn one, Mu, you know that, right? She might be even more stubborn than you!" Murrue placed an accusing finger on his nose and pushed. Mu grinned.

Smiles. Shared. Understood.

"But . . ." Murrue continued, "eventually, after a lot of pushing and shoving, I got her to stand still enough for this _one_ picture. And I even got her to smile, but . . . Evi _is_ Evi you know. . . ."

"Did . . . did she really do all of that . . . ?"

Murrue's dark eyes widened at the tone of her husband's voice. It was soft and _surprised—_as if he couldn't see it. She simply ran her hand across his face in the darkness. "Mu. You _are_ her father, you know.—Of _course_ she did. When she was crying that day . . . you broke my heart. And hers. . . ."

"I'm sorry."

Murrue quickly huffed, suddenly pulling her hand away.

"You've apologized more times tonight than you have in the past four years, Mu," she snapped. "You've _already_ healed it ten times over. Coming back was enough."

Mu ran his hand over hers, pressing soft kisses into her palm, muttering sweet nothings that meant _everything_.

Murrue smiled at his tickling advance. "That may work on me, Mu, but not _her_," she giggled, unable to pull away. "You've still got some major making up to do.—_Both_ her and Matthew."

"And what do you suggest I do?" Mu mumbled, taking time away from Murrue's palm, instead carefully pressing at it with his fingers.

"I have an idea . . ." Murrue grinned, eyes sharply flickering. "But you're gonna have to suffer for it.—No, you're not going to like it at _all_. It's pure _torture_, Mu."

He swallowed beneath her stare.

". . . W-What?"

Murrue pushed herself closer, pulling herself a bit more off the bed so she could get her face right up in Mu's for ultimate effect. Her eyes flashed, he tensed up.

"The man's coming back tomorrow. . . ." Murrue's hand drifted, tracing his face, his jaw. ". . . Stand in the picture with us?"

"And _that's_ torture?" He squeaked, incredulous—unable to get the tightness from his throat for that resonating deep chuckle he wanted. Murrue smiled, hiding the snicker of hers as she leaned in for a kiss.

"The worst kind," she whispered.


End file.
